Harry Potter and the Quiet Life
by eternitys-backpack
Summary: Harry should have lived a quiet life after Voldemort. Instead he moved into Sirius' old house, is raising his nephew Teddy and, of course, sexual tensions happen. in the form of Neville Longbottom. m/m and a couple pairings Anal, H/C, M/M Slash.
1. After Voldemort AV

After Voldemort (A.V. Era)

Harry James Potter had never thought he would be a father.

Quiet frankly, until recently, he hadn't the time. Firstly, Harry was sure he would not live to be old enough to father anything. Anything past 17 was a delightful surprise. He was pleased to simply find himself alive. Secondly, Harry had been sure that if he ever found anyone special he would be careful not to get involved for fear Voldemort would kill them. But Voldemort is dead. He wanted to say that again. It was a wonderful thing to be able to say. Voldemort is dead. An odd feeling. Harry had spent so much time worrying about Voldemort that he had never thought about what he would do when Voldemort was gone. He still recalled the first morning he woke up knowing Voldemort was dead.

He'd been taking a much needed nap in the Hogwarts dorms and when he awoke, he was confused. He thought for sure he had dreamt the whole thing up and was still in his sixth year of Hogwarts. He ambled down the stairs in a befuddled state, wandering right into the common room, dazed and glazed. To his surprise, the room was filled with people; wizards, goblins, centaurs, house elves. They were not a very quiet lot. He stared at them wide eyed and they silenced, gazing back at him in hushed awe. Harry scratched his head.

"So, he really is dead then? Good. Thought I dreamt the whole thing up. " then Harry laughed. He laughed so hard he cried. He laughed and cried until he was just crying. The room sobbed and laughed with him, relief and joy and grief and pain mingling in surprise flushed every person in the room. Mrs. Wesley started kissing Arthur and Fleur was all over Bill, and when Hermione flung herself at Ron, they barely parted to breathe. It was delight and anguish squished into one piece. Harry had thought, for sure, it would be the best moment of his life.

He was wrong. Yes, many wonders would occur that would, at the very least _tie_ that moment. His wedding day, Ron and Hermiones wedding; so many things. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. For now, the great moment that obliterated that one, was right now. Harry held a very small being in his arms. Teddy Remus Lupin was curled around Harry. He was suckling his thumb, as baby's often do, but unlike most baby's his hair was currently a sherbet orange. The small life that snuggled into his warmth breathed light, soft breaths with fat pink lips and rosy cheeks. He somehow looked like a chubby, squished up Lupin. Except the lips. Plump and lovely like Tonks' and the round wide shape of his eyes looked like Mrs. Tonks'. Harry wished he could find a part of himself in there, wished he would find his nose or fingers or anything. But that was impossible. The baby was not Harry's baby. But why did it feel so right to hold him? Why did his warmth feel so perfect in Harry's slightly awkward cradle?

Harry wanted to raise him. Before he had met Teddy he had spoken with Mrs. Tonks about his Godson. They had agreed that Harry could not look after his Godson all alone, that Mrs. Tonks would be the main caregiver. Harry could not abandoned his Godson, he knew first hand what that was like, but he could not _raise_ him either. At least, that had been what he had thought. But how could he leave this babe now? An angel, quiet and sorrowful in his arms. Lovely and lonely. And alive. Breathing. Family that was breathing. A unique concept to Harry. Harry whispered to himself, awestruck by the idea.

"I have a son. " Harry told the baby, bouncing Ted lightly. "Pretty baby," he cooed at Teddy soothingly. The kettle blew startlingly loud in the other room, arousing the sleeping infant in a loud squeal. The babe let out a holler, crying in rivulets. In the kitchen Andromeda hurried to unplug the kettle. She had given Harry alone time with the baby, but he would not be able to hush the child back into sleep. She went to the living room rather quickly but stopped short.

Young Harry was bouncing the baby ever so slightly, rhythmically. He paced like a natural, Teddy balanced in his arms. He hummed gently, whispering soft words. "Hush, hush, Teddy. I've got you. It's alright, I'm here. I've got you."

As Andromeda watched in stunned silence the baby slowly quieted. And that's when Andromeda knew. She knew she was definitely not alone with a baby and no daughter or son-in-law. This boy could not leave the baby alone anymore than she could. He had said those words.

'I've got you. '

That was not tossed around lightly. To have someone meant catching them when they fell to pieces and sewing all the bits together again. "Got you' implies that you would hold them while the world burned to ashes around them. That was a promise. A promise the boy was so ready to make.

"I've got you." Harry said, like a sigh more to himself that the baby.

And right there, in Andromeda Tonk's living room the A.V. era began.


	2. Teddy's Stair Fears

Hi there! Second chapter :) Btw this fic will feature alot of time skips. Since Neville spends alot of time at hogwarts teaching i wasn't really interested in writing through it all. so this is set three years after voldemort died in late spring. (hence the clever title.)

Three Years A.V

Harry found that his house, the one he had inherited from his Godfather, was the perfect home for strangers. It was made for the meeting of the bizarre. The dark, quiet rooms drowning in swoops of curtain and strange clinking family heirlooms were like the setting of a mystery novel. It seemed to Harry, it was destined to become a bed and breakfast. And since he could not bring himself to sell it, he figured he would just open it as such. Of course, everyone made a very large deal about it. They were worried, they said, that Harry was repressing. He should be an Auror, of course, as he had been for the past three years. He was so good at it, they said. Harry smiled tightly and said that he had experienced enough dark wizard hunting. At least for now. He assuaged them by mentioning the idea of a 'break'. 'Break' implies a returning. And they went on their merry ways.

With a little effort Harry found he was able to remove the spells hiding his home away and charmed the neighbours into believing the house had merely been for sale all these years. They gladly welcomed him, calling the place an old eyesore, bringing down the property value. Happy a nice young man like him had it purchased. His godson and Andromeda moved in upstairs. Andromeda, or Nanny as Harry had somehow ended up calling her, thoroughly enjoyed the idea of a bed and breakfast. She cleaned the inside of the place up nicely, applying a 'woman's touch. ' Meanwhile, Harry fixed up the outside. Old fashioned-like. That is, with his own two hands and a hammer instead of a wand. He replaced most of the deck and awning and shingled the roof, shedding his shirt to reveal his toned Quiddich chest, nicked with a surprising amount of scars. Across the road the college boarding house seemed to sport more girls than usual. They all sat outside to tan in the unusual hot spring air in their swim clothes and flirtatiously offered Harry lemonade. The middle aged mothers also seemed to bring him a lot of snacks. He concluded that the neighbourhood was very friendly.

How quaint, he thought, entirely oblivious.

He painted everything natural brown colours. The bricks on the house were a light brown and the roof dark black. And then, because he felt it just as quaint, he painted the door bright red. He did the same with the window frames. Then he ripped out the dead, gnarling garden. But he was stumped. He did plenty of yard work with the Dursley's, but their drab garden was like a choke chain around a labradoodle. Gardens, Harry thought, should be magical. It was then that he knew that no one would do but Neville Longbottom.

Harry would have apperated but we wanted to bring Teddy with him. They flooed to Hogsmeade and walked the rest of the way. As the castle rose to kiss the sky, Harry was filled with nostalgia, staring at the towers looming over the lake like two lovers bent towards each other slightly. The gate to the castle was open because the world was safe now. Well, much safer than it had ever been before. Any safer and Harry would be out of the job, he thought wryly. Then remembered he was no longer an Auror. He had told the wizarding world that he was tired of dark wizard hunting. The truth, however, was that Harry wanted to raise Teddy properly. Not like he had been raised. Clutched to his hand, a tiny Teddy was staring thoughtfully at the trembling grey stone giants filled with a mixture of fear, excitement and curiosity. A common thing for three year olds. He sucked his thumb noiselessly and his hair turned a vibrant blue. An uncommon thing for three year olds. Harry felt something familiar as he wound up the path towards the grounds, the shape of Hagrids hut becoming clear. The feeling of being at home. It warmed him, starting in the pit of his stomach and thrusting upwards. He belonged here.

Maybe Neville had the right idea. A teacher could be here whenever they wanted. He could be a teacher. He glanced down at Teddy. Teddy wouldn't be allowed to stay here and Teddy came first. Bed and Breakfast, then.

"You excited?" he asked running a hand through Ted's orange pop of hair. Teddy bobbed his head happily. They climbed through the entrance and memories surrounded him. In the old days we would have been flagged down and tackled and searched. Now days all he had to do was send a owl to tell Minerva that he would be here today and she happily obliged, sorry she could not be there herself as she was attending the annual headmistress meeting with Minister of Magic. Harry had assured her he knew his way around. Neville's name appeared on his map in a classroom on the fourth floor. He ended up carrying poor Teddy, as the moving stairways frightened him.

Harry peered through the open door of the classroom, trying to remain unseen. Neville had thrown his hands outwards in excitement and had knocked something off the shelf. The students only giggled lightly, as though more interested in what Neville was saying. Or perhaps used to the clumsy antics. Harry, of course, still overwhelmed by the incredible nostalgia couldn't help but laugh. Neville, slightly pink faced, whipped his head towards the door. Harry waved awkwardly.

"Harry!" Neville almost shouted in surprise, grinning madly. Harry couldn't help but feel equally excited as they sort of rushed to embrace each other.

"Neville!" He exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Magnificent! How long has it been?" He clapped Harry on the shoulder, and Harry stumbled a little. Neville was just as widely built as he had been years ago but he'd grown into it. Ron had shot up height wise and filled in his width. Neville had done the reverse. When his height had finally caught up with his somewhat stocky build he had become a strong, wide shouldered man with a broad chest. He wasn't overly muscular but he was well built, likely from carrying around giant pots of man eating magical plants. His strength and broadness against Harry's lithe Seeker's body was a little surprising to Harry. He felt a heat where Neville had clapped. Neville was still a little heavy, Harry thought, but he carried it very well.

"Not since last July, I guess. " he glanced awkwardly at the students who were gaping at him. Neville caught Harry's eye.

"Yes. I guess it was. " He said, somewhat sullen. A student whispered something and Neville's eyes shot towards the class. He flushed, as though he had suddenly remembered them.

"Oh! Uh, guys, this is my friend Harry and his godson," Neville referenced Teddy who had abruptly become shy and was clutching to the back of Harry's leg. "Teddy. " The class broke out in not at all quite whispers and gasps. Hushed conversation. Neville looked confused for a moment, than his eyes got wide. Harry was, of course, famous.

"Oh, So-sorry Harry. " He murmured. "I forgot. " For some reason, that pleased Harry.

"Settle down!" Neville shouted and all the kids sat suddenly. It had a surprisingly strong affect, they had, it seemed, a great deal of respect for Professor Longbottom. "Just, uh, study quietly for a while. "

Harry and Neville stepped outside.

"I'm really sorry Neville, I didn't think…"

"No, no," Neville brushed it aside. "It's great to see you. I haven't really been in touch since…well." Neville's face turned pink and Harry felt his own face burn.

"Uh, yeah. " He cleared his throat. "Actually that's why I came in person. Didn't want you to be…confused. I wanted to, um, hire you to do the garden at the house. I want to open it as a-"

"Bed and Breakfast, yeah I know. Hermione sent me a letter. She seemed…concerned. "

Harry scowled. Just like Hermione, to be so damn caring it was borderline annoying.

"Well, I was hoping for your magical touch. This summer you could stay with us and help. I'd pay. You always had a way with plants." Neville blushed with embarrassment and smiled shyly.

"I'd love to. " He murmured. The murmured made Harry's collar warm.

"Right!" He said abruptly, breaking eye contact. "Just wanted to make sure. I have to leave, but great seeing you. You remember where the place is? Good, good. Well got to go. Lots to do. Stuff to attend too, you know, yep. " Harry rambled as he scooped up a confused looking Teddy and sort of stumbled away. He immediately knew he'd been an idiot. Why couldn't he succeed at something, just this once? One visit with Neville and he'd turned into a blushing bridesmaid. But Neville's hands had been stained with dirt and his teacher's robes were oozing a certain mature older quality Harry found endearing. And the control over his students…and everything. Neville had always been a natural leader in a very different way than Harry, but it had never been so blatantly obvious. He had thought that Neville as a teacher would be a bit like…well like Quirell had acted. It was not. And it had Harry remembering that night last July, the day after Neville's Gran had died. The day that Harry had comforted Neville. The bed sheets had been hot and the skin had touched and burned in traces and those hands so often dirt stained had been hard and calloused against his skin.

"Daddy?" Teddy asked around his wet, slobbery fist. Harry flushed and looked down at his godson.

_Keep it together, Harry. He made it pretty damn obvious he's not interested in a repeat. You are a father now. Calm down._

He took a deep breath and smiled benignly at Teddy. Inside, he burned with anticipation.


	3. The First Guest

The First Guest

Neville was probably Harry's first guest, really. He lived at the house for the next two months helping Harry plant a garden worthy of London. They planted moss and vines to grow up the side of the house, roses and enchanted lilies and butterfly bushes with great purple flowers like ink stains. They lined the path with stones and ripped up the cement sidewalk and replaced it with a patted down dirt path. As they clipped the dead branches from the shadowy poplar Harry found himself once again admiring his friend.

Neville had stretched out; though he was still thickly built it was no longer baby fat. He was strong. Harry had more muscle definition, he knew, but Neville had strong shoulders and a larger chest. He was taller as well, so it balanced nicely. But Harry was really staring at that face. He'd never spent to long staring at Neville's face because his mind sort of filled it in. The pudgy face of a first year looking for his toad. But Neville had always had a soft face, a gentle face. Even as an adult he looked, well, kind. His bright blue eyes were sort of rosy like in old movies when they blurred the faces of the actors when they fell in love. His softness and general pleasantness seemed like some dream of normality to Harry. Neville was like a pendulum. He was constant.

"I've always wondered why you wanted to be friends with me." Harry said suddenly. Neville was so startled he clipped right through a living branch, exposing flush green veins. He brought his eye brows together to stare at Harry.

"I mean, you knew we were trouble. And we weren't particularly kind to you." Harry murmured, shame flooding his face. "But you did right by us."

"Are you an idiot?" Neville shook his head of hair and rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. Harry found he liked that stubble.

"I was the one always surprised you put with me. I mean, you could have been friends with any bloke. And, well, you were kind to me. You saved my rememberall. And you told me to stand up for myself. Said I was worth 12 of Malfoy. Harry, you are kind to a fault. My grandmother always said you were too nice to be a celebrity." Harry felt his face burn.

"Right." He muttered, turning back to the task at hand. Teddy ran out then, dragging a toy truck behind him.

"Daddy! I wanna too!" He shouted bending over to fill his truck with dirt. He rushed about loudly.

"Does he always call you Daddy?" Neville asked as he paused to adjust his hat and wipe some sweat of his brow. He squinted at the little person running about. It was bizarre to think that Harry was raising a child, or that he was opening a bed and breakfast in the middle of muggle London. Neville had always thought Harry was little impulsive, but he never thought of him as whimsical. But this place was so bizarre from the curtains to the screaming portraits to the blasted family trees. Harry himself was so…enchanting. The house, as Harry said, was meant for the meeting of strangers. He sensed it immediately. He expected it to be warm and welcoming and it was. What he did not expect was a house elf named Kreature serving him brightly or Mrs. Tonks living upstairs or the Doxies in the curtains or any of it. This side of Harry was so much softer than Neville remembered. Harry had always seemed untouchable in his great strength, power and courage. But this Harry was untouchable in a very different way. He was like the delicate bindings of the Chinese Lantern Flower. Neville feared that if he touched this soft, happy Harry, he would break.

"He does! And it causes terrible rumours on the block!" Harry laughed. "I don't know how exactly it started. He used to call me "Hahahy" He could only say the first and last part of my name, you know? Then Hermione tried to get him to say 'Dada' instead and I became Daddy." Harry ran his fingers through the messy array of hair that whistled in the wind and tangled with the dewy smell of gardening that he found so enticing on Neville's skin. "Do you think it odd? Should I make him call me otherwise?" Harry asked suddenly, gazing out at Teddy who was, for all intents and purposes, his son.

"No. It suits you." Neville turned back to trimming the tree and Harry did the same. Neville glanced at Harry's back before hurriedly returning to his work. Poor Harry, raising the baby all alone.

"How have you been since, well, since…" Neville muttered. He'd been there for almost two weeks without mentioning it.

"Since what?" Harry said darkly. "Think we ought to pull up the black berry tree? Looks dead."

Neville swallowed. "No, it's wick. I checked."

"Wick?" Harry asked, reaching towards it.

"Alive. Green, you see?" Neville pulled down the branch he'd cut earlier to expose it's green, fleshy innards. Harry smiled.

"I know what wick means." He said, but not harshly. As though he enjoyed that Neville wanted to teach him something. Neville released the branch suddenly, nervously and it whacked him in the face, cutting his cheek.

"Owch!" Neville gasped. Genuine concern mingled with amusement on Harry's face.

"Oh, Nev, I missed this." He chuckled, muttering some wandless magic to sew up the scratch and rubbed away the blood with a rag. Neville's face turned a bright pink.

"Always doing this kind of thing…" Neville sort of sighed, clearly embarrassed. He tried to nonchalantly lean in to Harry a little. Their sides touched and Neville felt his whole left go numb and warm from the contact. Harry was so much brighter, he thought, than he'd been then. Perhaps he'd just needed time.

Two and a half years ago Harry had been so busy trying to bring up a baby. Whenever Neville saw Harry he looked wrecked. Between working for the ministry trying to catch fleeing Death Eaters and bringing up a six month old Harry had withered somewhat. His eyes were ringed in dark smudges and he was irritable and dreary. At their joint birthday party that year he'd nearly passed out and Neville had lent him the use of his bed. But even then he'd seemed happy with his life. It wasn't until Ginny had left him for Dean Thomas then he'd really seemed to fall apart. Neville had been torn about that as well. Harry had spent so little time with Ginny, he'd been so busy. But she went about it the wrong way. Poor Harry had to hear from Seamus. Seamus, of course, was under the impression that Harry already knew and that, well, Ginny had broken up with him already. Harry had been very mature about it but he became darker. Secluded. He hardly came out to meet with anyone anymore. Neville had only got scattered letters. Even Ron said he didn't really visit often. But it seemed Harry has flourished, like the gardens. The last time Neville had seen Harry was the night his gran had died. The night he'd messed up. The night he'd ruined everything.

It seemed that Neville was suddenly surrounded by scantily clad teenage girls.

"Hi Harry!"

"Who is this, Harry?"

"Introduce us!"

"We brought lemonade!"

Neville blinked and dropped the garden shears, his face tomatoeing at the attention. He realised then that there was only four, but they seemed to take up more room.

"Uh, this is Neville. We went to school together." Harry said awkwardly. He was having trouble remembering all the girls' names. College girls all looked the same to him. Especially his neighbours. He was sure their names all rhymed or something.

"Mindy, Martha, Makeila and" he paused. The blonde one, um, "and M-uh-Missy!"

M-uh-Missy seemed to take his stutter as a positive note, as though Harry was embarrassed to introduce her, not as though he forgot her name. Missy was quite self important. She brushed her stunning hair behind her ear and gazed lustily through her lashes at Harry. She held Harry's lemonade aloft and he took it awkwardly. The other girls, who weren't as focused on one boy, fawned over Neville and Teddy who'd rushed over to receive his fair dues. They fussed over him and cooed and Teddy enjoyed it thoroughly. Then, as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared in a puff of giggles and sweet smelling perfume. Neville stared at Harry.

"What kind of life are you living here?" Neville said accusingly. Harry laughed.

"I suppose you haven't met any of the neighbours. Let me provide you with a breakdown There are six houses on this court besides this one. Across the street is the college house, some of the occupants you've just met. Consists of an uncertain amount of university students who come and go in peculiar patterns. On the left we have Mr and Mrs. Livingstone and their two boys Marcus and Leon. To the right Mrs. Milton a widow who enjoys tea and gardening. To the left of the college house is the New Family. Only just in their twenties. Morris and Lisa, pregnant with the first child. Beside them is the Flagers. Sisters or lesbians, the truth is unknown. Then lastly is the Sadats. An elderly Indian couple with five children and seemingly infinite amounts of adorable grandchildren. I don't really know anyone farther down, but they are very friendly and are mostly common families with younger kids and a couple teenagers. It's all very suburban." He grinned. "Right in the middle of London, suburbia is alive and well."

Well, it wasn't really the middle of London. It was sort of off to the side. Pleasantly so. The perfect place for a bed and breakfast. Far enough away to be quaint and beautiful and close enough to London's main attractions to be perfect for travellers. They were almost done gardening as well. Harry supposed he should fix the inside. Mrs. Tonks had been decorating beautifully. Applying that womanly aspect that made a place liveable. Well as liveable as somewhere could be with a certain someone hanging in the foyer.

Mrs. Black screamed and hollered about dirty little blood traitors destroying the house as Harry traced chalk lines across the floors, getting Neville to move the furniture about.

"Sit on the table. All of you." Harry suggested. Neville helped Mrs. Tonks climb onto the dining room table as Harry hoisted Teddy up to sit in her lap. He clapped happily and his Nana gave him a nervous smile.

"Harry," Neville said as he too climbed up, "Are you sure this is, um, safe?"

"No idea." Harry said, his accent adding an 'r' sound to the end of the word. "Saw it in a movie."

"A what?" Neville shouted as Harry raised his wand, envisioned what he wanted and shouted.

"_Occasus Abeo!"_ The room sort of twisted a little and everyone's vision blurred except Harry's. Harry found he saw the room perfectly pristine, but translucent. He could reach out with his mind and bend the shapes. He aligned each wall with one of the chalk lines he drew, he flipped a few walls and when the mood struck him, he added a doorway and changed the tiles. Everyone else simply heard a few bangs, a pop and a final hearty thud. Harry glanced about.

"Didn't think it would really work." Harry said, grinning. Mrs. Tonks rubbed her ears.

"Little Prat." She said, but it was with a tired sort of endearment.

The whole lay out of the house had rearranged. The room with the blasted family tree had absorbed the living room and hall to become one large living room with all the beautiful furniture Mrs. Tonks had purchased. The back of that room opened onto an entirely glass wall that allowed patrons to gaze out at the fantasy-like back yard strung with vines and impossibly large blossoms charmed to never brown. The only other room on the bottom floor was a rather spacious kitchen to the left, with an eating table for breakfast. It also had a door that opened onto the backyard but it was a swinging door. It was very reminiscent of a movie-perfect childhood, with the door constantly swinging as children ran in and out of their mum's kitchen for lemonade. The upper floor was all bedrooms. Only Sirius' room remained untouched. Mrs. Blacks portrait seemed to have disappeared, however Harry revealed, to a sobbing Kreature, that the shouting portrait was in the closet Kreature lived in. And Harry had charmed the closet to be sound proof. The family tree had been completely repainted, blasted blotches becoming the round happy faces of Sirius and others. Bellatrix had disappeared along with many others and replaced with distant cousins like the Potters and the Weasleys. Even Hermione made an appearance, a thin line dotted between her and Ron labeled _engaged._ Neville was startled to see himself, scuffed beard and all, a distant cousin looped under his parents and his Gran.

After the others had gone to bed, Harry found Neville staring at the glimmering photo of his Gran. He traced her face softly.

"She was an amazing woman." Harry said, handing Neville a cup of tea.

"Yes, she-she always believed in me. Even when everyone said I'd liable to be Squib. She kept saying I was just a late bloomer." He took a long sip. Harry drank tea every night, which Neville found adorable. But Harry set his tea down without taking a sip and gazed up at the wall of pictures. He eyes flicked from one shot to the next. Neville watched them touch Tonks, Professor Lupin, Sirius, Fred, Dumbledore and others. The long dead.

"They were all amazing." Neville said. Harry nodded slowly.

"Do you miss your Gran a lot?" Harry said, crossing his arms and rubbing them together slightly.

"Yes." Neville took another long drag of his tea. A silence eclipsed them for awhile and Neville slowly finished his tea. "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Harry asked.

"What you did last July. After Gran died. I know, well, it shouldn't have happened. But thanks. I was feeling alone and you were there for me."

Harry turned such a violent shade of red, Neville was startled. Harry's hand flew to cover his mouth and he turned back to the wall quickly. The shape of his long, thin body was dark against the light of the torches. Neville smiled.

"Right, well, good-night." Harry said quickly and rushed out of the room. Neville chuckled a little. He picked up Harry's full tea cup and poured it down the sink and headed to bed. He dreamt of that night.

_Distraught. That was all I could think. I didn't know where to be without Gran. Alone. I'm not strong enough to be alone. Why did she have to die? I can't even go see my parents. They've got visiting hours. Can you imagine? The only child in the world who has parents with visiting hours. My Gran is dead. _

_Somehow, I found myself at Harry's door, then the bedroom. I'm alone and he understands. I'm alone and he's here, alone, with me. We are alone together. I was shaking and sobbing and he was holding me to his chest. Did I move first or did he? It must have been me, Harry wouldn't have reached out and kissed me like he just did. His lips were so shy against mine. They barely brushed against the surface. I wanted more. I bit down suddenly and he gasped, and thought to move away. A grabbed him around that slim waist. He tasted so sweet. Like tea. My tongue ran along those sweet lips as I pushed him down against the bed. His hands reached up to knot in my hair and they pulled my closer as he opened his mouth to me. My face was still wet with tears and we both tasted salt as our tongues touched. My hands pushed that constricting shirt away and found warm contact on his chest. I knew I shouldn't reach for those nipples, but I did. I pinched and pulled and he moaned deeply into my mouth, the vibrations moving against my teeth. His knee slid up between my legs and brushed my erection like a burning flame. His hand slid down to cup it nervously. I pulled back and we paused. I gazed into his dark, half-lidded green eyes. His pupils were huge with arousal and his brutalized lips glistened red. I pulled his glasses away and put them on the table. He didn't try to stop me. Slowly, he slid down the zipper on my jeans. It sounded like thunder in the quiet room, murmuring sultry things to the lightening. He grasped me, and I moaned and pressed my mouth around his nipple and bit down. His breath quickened. I yanked down his pants in a quick motion, just down low enough to grab his manhood. Skin to skin I pulled up and stroked down. Our rhythms matched perfectly. We went faster and faster, our mouths rocking together, our cocks and hands touching and rubbing and gasping. He moaned my name and it burned it's sound into my mind to replay over and over every night. He came first. I'll never forget his face, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he was biting his own bottom lip his cheeks red and dark. His eyes shot open, wide and green they stared right into mine. They begged me for more, for everything I had and I wanted him to have it. _

_"__Neville, p-please." He groaned in ecstasy and came into my hand. Those eyes rocked me over the edge and I burst into his hands. _

Neville startled awake and stared down at his own soiled hand. If only that hand had been Harry's.

Down the hallway, Harry's dreams were not quiet so deviant or happy.


	4. The Quick Escape

The Quick Escape

_Cedric's eyes widen suddenly. Harry could see past the green light that reminded him of a woman's scream, of a car crash, and into those suddenly wide eyes. They seemed to tighten a fraction and go still. Slowly Cedric fell, he tumbled out of the Astronomy Tower and his hand reached out towards Harry. Dumbledore seemed to stare right at him as he twisted slightly in the air before smattering against the ground like a broken crust. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, green irises swelling. He clutched the bloody spot beneath his clean pillow sack where Bellatrix's knife broke Dobby's tanned skin._

_CRUCIO_

_And everything was coming apart. Harry tried to scream out but no one was listening. Where was Sirius? Where was Lupin? Tonks? Then Fred appeared before him, grinning casually. He reached out and ran his fingers down the side of Harry's arm. Harry shuddered and fell into his embrace, so frightened and longing for his comfort. Fred rubbed his back, clicking his tongue teasingly at Harry's distress._

_"Don't be so docile Harry. It's more fun when you fight a little." He kissed Harry's lips firmly, licking them as they parted in an almost cat-like manor. "I like a challenge." He smirked. Then his smile turned red. His eyes lost their mischievous glint and stilled. Blood. Everywhere. On Harry's hands. On his face. In his hair. Fred was disappearing in the red._

"DON'T GO!" He screamed. He fumbled out of his room and found the door to the bathroom on luck alone, his vision blurred. He vomited, most of it landing in the toilet. He rested his head against the toilet seat and panted heavily. He was wracked by sobs. He wailed loudly and choked a little on his tears. His ribs shook almost painfully.

A warm hand pressed against his back and rubbed softly. Harry turned his wide eyes to the stranger, to Neville pressed on the outskirts of his nightmare like a beacon of light left on the porch of an imaginary place called home.

"You okay?" He murmured.

"They're all dead." He felt his lips tremble, he felt his vision blur a little more as fat tears filled his eyes. "And it's my fault."

Neville squeezed him into a hug. He didn't say anything for a moment, just held the poor suffering hero. He didn't blame Voldemort, he didn't tell Harry to cheer up or to be glad he had survived. He didn't even try to explain that none of it had been Harry's fault, that Harry had been the unfortunate center piece in the worlds worst game. In fact all he did was softly cradle Harry and murmur, "I've got you. It's okay. I've got you." Over and over. And if Harry had truly been listening, he would have heard, beneath those promises, the whispers of "I love you."

Neville had soothed Harry until the smaller man seemed incapable of movement.

"Fred." Harry moaned and Neville felt his chest tighten. He didn't know that Harry had been that close with Fred. A weird sort of anger buzzed annoyingly in the back of his mind. He tried to ignore the ugly thing he knew to be jealously. How stupid of him. But Harry's lips were murmuring someone else's name and the pressure in his chest became the desire to silence those whispers. Neville leaned down, not entirely aware of himself and enveloped Harry's lips in his own. Harry, feeling a deep heavy lonliness grabbed desperately onto Neville's stubbly face. Neville's hands brushed Harry's cheeks which were damp with cold sweat, fear and tears. It was very safe, Harry thought, here in Neville's warm hands. They didn't remind Harry in the slightest of Fred.

Harry's eyes shot open as thoughts of Fred came rushing unwelcomed into his mind and a guilty streak flushed him. Neville's lips felt suddenly wrong, his hands distinctly incorrect in their gentle movement. A sob wrecked its way across Harry's chest and he shoved Neville away. He curled around his knees and cried unabashedly. Neville's warm hand stayed on Harry's shoulder until he drifted into sleep.

When Harry woke up he found that Neville had carted him back to his room. He lay still, staring at his own ceiling, thinking of what he had done. He had shoved Neville away. He had ended their would-be relationship. He had snubbed it before it could even flourish. Harry's relationship with the twins was complicated. In fifth year Harry and the twins had, quite accidently, become physically involved. Harry wasn't sure when their playful wrestling had changed into heated touches. Hits were replaced with kisses, rubs and a burning passion. Harry wondered, still, if it had started as a bizarre form of gratitude from the twins because of the money Harry had given them fourth year. Or perhaps they were trying to comfort Harry who was isolated and distraught about Cedric, Voldemort and later, Sirius. Harry had found their sexual antics a sort of stress release. It was hard to hate yourself when two people seemed intent on loving you.

However they weren't _in_ love, Harry knew. Harry's personal relationship with them remained brotherly, which may seem odd and incestuous however he was already involved with twins so that obscured this tiny oddity. Harry never sought more from them and was content to wrap himself in the twins touches. All this time together had taught him how to tell the difference between the two. They used to play 'guess who' were Harry, blindfolded, would try to differentiate which hand belonged to who. The hands, despite being of identical size and temperature, were very different. George, to Harry's surprise, was gentle and firm. He had a kinder, more serious aspect, a worrier. Harry was strongly reminded of Mrs. Weasley sometimes when George told him he wasn't eating enough or smiled gently at him. Fred on the other hand, was much more dangerous. He was mischievous and playful and damn the consequences. Harry found himself adoring them.

And then Fred had died. It was strange to suddenly be missing such a large part of yourself. Every year on their shared birthday, Harry and George found themselves entangled in bed sheets, crying between the mournful kisses. It was very much like how Neville and he had first kissed. But more sorrowful. As they held each other they were distracted by the absence of a third member, by the spot Fred had left in the bed between them. Harry found, only after Fred's death, that he could have fell in love with them. It would have been easy to enter a relationship, a real relationship with the twins. To indulge and be indulged upon and to feel warm, natural love. But it was too late now. He could never be with George alone without both feeling the absences, without both hating themselves. He had missed his first chance at love.

It was this that made himself promise that he would never let that kind of chance slip away again. Yet he had. Because he felt guilty about being with someone when red was gone. Neville's touch had felt wrong because it wasn't Fred's. but how long did he plan to lie alone, dreaming of Fred and George and knowing it was long passed. He couldn't sit around waiting for Neville either. Time for action. Action was something Harry James Potter could handle.

And with that stirring thought Harry walked to Neville's room, banged excitedly on the door and opened it. The bed was neatly made and Neville's stuff was gone.

Harry raced downstairs. "Neville!" He shouted but silence followed. He ran through the rooms and looked outside but knew it was too late. Neville was gone.

Back in the kitchen a roll of parchment was set on the table. He sat heavily for a moment, then unrolled it.

'Harry,' it said it Neville's not quite neat, not quite messy writing. 'I'm sorry for everything. I think it best if I return two weeks early to Hogwarts. I've attached my plans for the backyard if you still want them. I made a mistake in coming here, I've ruined everything. I think we should return to being distant but good friends. I truly am sorry, Harry.

Sincerely' Then a large blot of ink over what was likely the word 'Yours' crossed out, then Neville's loopy signature.

Harry stared, dumbfounded at the message. What an idiot, he thought miserably. He wished Neville had stayed and they had discussed things like adults. This was childish and irksome. If he had just stayed, like any reasonable person would have, harry could have told him that he had been afraid of kissing Neville back because everyone he had ever tried to love had died or left him for someone else or couldn't seem to love him anymore. He was afraid of the hurt Neville could now inflict on him but was willing to take a risk on Neville because he was tired of being alone. He was tired of not living. And he so liked everything about Neville and his sweet sincerity and clumsiness, bravery and dedication. But Neville had left.

Should Harry write him a letter? Should he wait until Neville's calmed down or rush to it? He wished Neville would just come back.

Just as he thought this, an uncertain knock on the door echoed into the kitchen. Heart leaping to his throat, Harry raced down the hall and flung the door open, hoping to see his old Hogwarts classmate looking sorry in his doorway. It was, in fact and old Hogwarts student looking uncertain there, but it was not Neville. Harry stared, shocked, at the strangely sad, confused face on the other side of the welcome mat.

It was this person, and not Neville who would help Harry plant baby's breath and forget-me-nots in the late gardening season.

It was this person, and not Neville, who would, as he helped hang the sign over the B&B, smack his head and scowl as Harry laughed.

And it was this person who planted the willow and charmed it to glow slightly in the yard.

This person would spend the rest of the summer and well into November with Harry instead of Neville.

And it would be with this person and _not_ Neville that Harry entered a relationship that would ultimately deeply wound him.

And Neville, sitting alone in his office, tears burning his eyes as he thought about the rejection he didn't understand but thought he deserved, did not know that all the things he should have been doing with Harry were now being done with Draco Malfoy.


	5. Being Drunk, I Find, Fixes Everything

_December 19th, 3 Years A.V at Hogwarts._

Dean Thomas was positively bursting with excitement as he rocked on his heels waiting outside of Neville's office. His hands were trembling slightly and his face was flushed. When Neville finally appeared, talking mundanely to the aging Professor Flitwick, Dean raised his hand towards him urgently.

"Mr. Thomas!" Flitwick squeaked politely. "How are you?"

"Brilliant, Professor. Just hoping to speak with Neville." Dean said polite, but pointedly. Flitwick seemed to understand. Neville, Flitwick had noted, seemed to be a tad down since the school year had begun. He was not his usual, pleasantly bumbling self. In fact, he wasn't very clumsy anymore, just mopped about. Flitwick wondered if his clumsiness was a side affect of a somewhat happy and nervous disposition after all. But the careful happiness had been dashed away and the clumsiness had followed suit. Flitwick found he missed the old Neville deeply. He was much too young for a midlife crisis. Flitwick had the sneaking suspicion it involved a girl. Perhaps a visit from Mr. Thomas would be helpful. So Flitwick, a surprisingly observant man, left.

"How's it, Dean?" Neville said, a little gloomier than usual. Neville was doing his best not to let his broken heart affect his daily interactions but he was finding it rather difficult. And Dean was just a reminder of an old heart ache.

"Oh, Neville, you are not going to believe it mate. Let's talk." Dean was twitching slightly, clearly overwhelmed with something. As soon as the door to Neville's office was closed behind him Dean grabbed Neville's shoulders and swung him around to face him. For a split second, Neville wondered if Dean was going to kiss him. Dean had developed this dreadful habit of cheating. First on Neville with Ginny, then Ginny had cheated on Harry with Dean. Then Neville had tried to kiss Harry and Harry had dumped him. It was all rather complexly interwoven.

"I'm proposing to Ginny. Tonight." Dean rasped, shaking Neville a little. Dean whipped out a ring, glowing with a fat diamond. His eyes glinted nervously as he licked his lips and looked up at Neville anxiously.

"Oh, Dean!" Neville exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you!" And Neville was surprised at how happy he was for Dean. For Dean, it had always been Ginny. And even if they had got together in a bad way, they perhaps deserved each other. There was a lingering feeling of disappointment and anger. Why had love worked out for the cheater and not for those who had been cheated on? But wasn't that the way things always went? He clapped Dean on the shoulder, holding back small tears of happiness.

"I wanted you to know, because I want you to be my best man." Dean grinned, closing the ring box and putting it in his pocket, hands shaking. Neville blinked and stared up at Dean. Blissfully stupid, wonderful Dean. His tears really did rush up and out of him. Just one. He whisked it away quickly. Stuck for words he wrapped Dean in a bear hug. As happy as it was, it burned a little. Dean was an idiot.

"What about Seamus?" Neville said, moments later when he'd calmed down.

"Seamus is my best mate. But he understands. You were there for me at a very…confusing time." Dean said with his voice low and deep and reminding Neville of sex. "Actually, Seamus is going to marry us." Dean said offhandedly. "Well, if Ginny says yes, I mean." He fluttered nervously.

"Of _course_ she will." Neville said, grinning. "It's always been you." Except for the brief bit of time when it was Harry, Neville thought anxiously. Speaking of…

"Well, I have to tell Harry next!" Dean said, smiling at Neville. Neville's face fell.

"Maybe that's not a good idea, Dean." Dean stopped smiling. "I just think that you should maybe leave it. Alone. For awhile anyway. Maybe let me tell him." Neville added the last part nervously, his face red with uncertainty. He wasn't sure if he and Harry were on speaking terms. Perhaps a little selfishly, Neville thought maybe their meeting would bring about the feelings of grief that caused things to happen. He was immediately disgusted with himself.

"You think he's still angry with me?" Dean whispered. What an idiot, Neville thought, You fucked his girlfriend while he was trying to raise his godson.

"Maybe a little. I think he'll be happy for you, but hurt too. I think he thought he would marry Ginny some day, Dean. Just worry about Ginny for now." Neville smiled. "Let me tell Harry."

"Whatever you think is best mate, you understand him better than most of us." It was a weird thing to hear from Dean and struck him as untrue. Yet true. Harry and him had gone through similar things and it made them understand each other, a little. But he also had no clue what Harry was thinking most of the time. After some more congratulations, a toast of fire whiskey for luck and some more back patting Dean eagerly fled to propose. Neville sat back in his chair, staring out the window uncertainly. Christmas break starts tomorrow. Tomorrow Neville would go tell Harry. Tonight, he was going to get shit faced with Hagrid, Flitwick and Mund the young, wild Muggle Studies Professor.

_December 20th , 3 Years A.V at The Black Bed and Breakfast_

Neville appeared, or rather Apperated neatly and loudly into the parking lot and walked down Harry's street. It was late, not in the night but in the sky. It was pitch dark, lit only by staggering stars muffled under the poisonous smoke of London and the overly cheery Christmas decorations. The bright white, green, red and blue lights buzzed anxiously. The Bed and Breakfast was tastefully lit with white dangling ice lights and a star on the top of the front evergreen. Smoke was puffing pleasantly from the chimney. A house for the meeting of strangers, as always was welcoming and bright. Like Harry.

For the first time, Neville thought that the house was naturally like that but that the presence of Harry had made it so. Harry had such an overwhelming kindness that it must have spilled into whatever home he dwelled in. He knocked uncertainly at the door. Moments later, kindly Mrs. Tonks opened it, a mug of tea in her hands.

"Oh, hello dearie." She smiled, her dark features so reminiscent of Bellatrix in the half light of the house it made Neville jump a tinge.

"Hello, Mrs. Tonks. Harry about?" He asked as she stepped aside to let him in.

"I'm afraid not," she said nervously. "He went out." she said it curtly.

"Something wrong?" he asked as he stepped into the living room. Teddy was playing with trucks on the floor under the Christmas tree, pulling the toys over the wrapped boxes and making noises. He glanced up at Neville, smiled showing his missing front teeth and went back to his toys. They were clearly more interesting than Neville. Well, they were fire trucks so Neville understood.

Mrs. Tonks looked nervously at Teddy then gestured to the kitchen.

"I'm terribly worried about him, dear." She said. "He's taken to drink, I'm afraid. Or will soon. I know what an addiction to the drink looks like and he's getting uncomfortably close. If he doesn't smarten up…well, I won't keep Teddy in an unpredictable household, I simply won't."

Neville was simply aghast. Not in a million years had he ever suspected, and yet he should have been more surprised than he was.

"Well, I understand he's been through hell, the poor thing." She continued, clearly conflicted. She stared pouring some tea for Neville. "And he's been so lovely to us. And Teddy is his life now. I don't know what to do. But that Malfoy boy must have done something dreadful and it just tipped him right over the edge. And what with the engagement so soon to follow? Tsk Tsk."

Neville's mind was reeling. So he'd heard about the engagement, which was unfortunate. But what about Malfoy? He took a large gulp of hot tea.

"Malfoy?" He said when the scalding had stopped in his mouth.

"Yes, the boy came to live here after you left. Seemed really confused about his life. But at the end of November Harry suddenly kicked him out, big old fight then too. Upset Teddy dreadfully, poor tyke. Harry was quiet undone after that. Went a little overboard with the sleeping draught he puts in his tea nightly. Then it was a bit of fire whiskey in there as well. Then it got better, and then worse as Christmas comes. With the holidays and no family to speak of besides us, well, I think he's reliving some hard times." She shook her head. Neville was so…confused. Mrs. Tonks grabbed his hand loosely. She was warm, soft and wrinkled. It reminded him slightly of his grandmother in such a confusing moment he found this comforting. "Maybe you should speak with him, dear. He likes you very dearly."

Neville covered his face with his hand and leaned heavily on the table with a sigh. "Right now I reckon he hates me."

"Well, when the ones we love do something stupid, we may think we hate them, but really that's just love from the opposite end. You just have to get him right side up again." She pat his arm. Maybe Mrs. Tonks was not as oblivious as Neville thought. He looked at her, and her eyes showed a friendly and accepting knowingness.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks." He said softly.

"Please, call me Nanny. Everyone else does." She said, smiling neatly.

"_Nannyyy!" _Cried Teddy from the next room.

"See?" She said as she got up. "It's past his bedtime. He was hoping to wait up for Harry but…" she trailed off. She put a matchbox on the table. It belonged to the Leaky Cauldron. She tapped it with a painted fingernail. "Bring his Daddy home, Neville. For good."

Neville was walking anxiously into the Leaky Cauldron and immediately spotted Harry sitting languidly on a barstool. He didn't look…well. He was disguised, but weakly so. People would be shocked to pick out the wizarding world hero sitting drunkly at Tom's bar for the third night in a row. Harry was resting his chin on the bar, flicking his finger against the glass. Neville sat on his other side quietly.

"Alright there, Harry?" he said softly. Harry glanced up at him for a moment before angrily turning away.

"Oh, spectacular." He drawled, his sarcastic humour unpleasant in the darkened tavern. "What are you doing here?"

"Everyone's worried." It was the wrong thing to say, Harry snorted and turned away.

"That's my life isn't it? Always somebody else's to worry about." He downed his glass of amber liquid in one go and tapped the table. Tom looked at him uncertainly, tilting his bald head. Neville shook his head at Tom, and mouthed 'Water.'

"Are you patronizing me Neville?" Harry slurred a tad as it spat out of his mouth.

"You're drunk, Harry." Neville said, not one to beat around the bush. "And you're kid is waiting at home for you."

"He isn't my-"

"Don't finish that. You'll regret it." Neville interrupted. Harry stared at the water Tom had placed in front of him coldly. He drank it and set it down empty. He stared at the glass and the light bouncing through it. "He's your son, Harry. You aren't alone. No where near it. You have Ron, Hermione, the whole Weasley gang actually, the Order…" Neville trailed off. "And me. We're your family, Harry. I'm your family." Harry tilted the glass a bit and the light danced. It blurred as he felt tears in his eyes.

"Shut up, Neville." He said, but it was soft. "Let's go." He got up, tipsy on his feet.

As they walked back to Harry's house, Harry summoned a beer bottle and took a long swig.

"Last one, honest." He said. "Just want to fall asleep good. Been dreaming bad things. Malfoy." He grunted angrily.

"Were you and he…?" Neville asked, staring at the bottle unhappily. He kept a hold of Harry's elbow. Harry guffawed but it sounded like a yes.

"So, you really were with Malfoy?" Neville ground his teeth, "You _chose_ him?"

Harry took another long swig of beer and gazed blearily at his old school mate.

"Well, I bloody well thought I did. Silly me." He laughed, in the loud way drunks do. "Malfoy had a very different idea about it." Neville frowned. Harry took that as a notion to continue.

"You know, I enter these kinds of relationships expecting more than I get. Then they somehow end up fucking someone else." _Fucking_ caught in his throat a bit. "And where the _fuck_ were you? You just fucking disappeared instead of discussing things like adults and then _Malfoy?_ Of all people I get with _Malfoy?_ What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Not a damn, fucking thing." Neville said sharply. Harry shuttered a little at the word coming out of Neville's mouth. Hid vision blurred and he sat heavily in the snow.

"Gimme a sec." he said blearily.

"How many? Relationships, I mean." Neville sat slowly beside him, borrowing Harry's bottle to take a long, nervous gulp.

"Well, before Malfoy it was George Wesley." Harry sighed. "Not that you could expect a legitimate relation from George. It was more of a comfort thing, the anniversary of Fred's death it was." He touched his own cheek tenderly, as though remembering a different hand there. "Still, I hoped. There's a couple of them, I don't know. Let's not."

"I'd want to know about all of them." Neville muttered. "If we were to enter a relationship."

Harry's eyes widened. "Come again?"

"You and I. If we dated. I'd want to know."

"Neville. Are you gay?" the question seemed so pointless to Neville.

"Of course." He said blankly. Then his heart tumbled with a sudden thought. "A-are you?"

"Well, I-well yes." He sounded somewhat confused.

"But you dated girls?"

"Well, I did date Ginny for awhile." Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Kissed Cho, before I discovered my, uh, interests. And Luna. I dated Luna for time." Neville nodded, though Luna shocked him.

"I dated Hannah Abbott for awhile." He said. Harry felt a weird pang of jealousy, but knew that was silly. "My first boy was Dean Thomas." Neville continued and Harry's mouth plopped open.

"But… he was dating Ginny?" He stuttered.

"Pre-Ginny. The year she dated you actually. I think he was just upset that you two were together and we ended up, I don't know, relieving each other I guess." Harry shook his head, shocked. Dean Thomas. That fucker.

"Oh. My first boy was a muggle." Harry said suddenly, as though he just remembered. "I mean, we kissed once. And that was when I got confused. I mean, he just leaned over and planted one

on me. We spent the summer together and on the last day he just kissed me. And I liked it. Up till then, I was positive I was straight. That was the summer after sixth year. His name was James. I wonder what he's up to now? That was the last time I saw him…Then there was one time with Charlie Wesley."

Neville frowned. "What is with you and the Wesley's? You've kissed, like, three of them." Harry turned very pale pink and seemed to be counting in his head.

"Well." He said awkwardly. Neville swallowed.

"How many have you kissed?"

"All but Percy." Harry said sheepishly, his cheeks pink from the drink. Neville took a long gulp of beer.

"No shit. Even Ron?"

"You were there! Christmas Eve at school? We all got drunk and played spin the bottle? Me and Ron frenched." Relief splashed over Neville. That barely counted.

"And Bill?"

"That was an accident. When they all drank the polyjuice potions he mistook me for Fleur and kissed me…passionately. Barely had the heart to tell him I wasn't Fleur." There was a muffled, slightly hysterical giggle.

"And Fred?"

"Well, that time with George wasn't me first experience with George."

"Both? At the same time? Merlin's beard, Harry!" Harry ducked his head in-between his shoulders, embarrassed. "You oughta complete the set. Kiss Percy!"

"Y-you think?" He mumbled, rubbing his cheek.

"My word, you little minx. Unbelievable." Neville rubbed the back of his neck and drank again. "So, real relationship-wise, it was Cho, Fred and George, Ginny and Malfoy?"

Harry nodded meekly.

"And I've Hannah, Dean and Mund. Well, briefly. He's a teacher at Hogwarts. We dated two years ago, we're friends now." Neville said. "Now that we got all that out of the way. Harry. I like you. A lot."

Harry's heart stopped. Which would have felt romantic if he were not drunk. As it was, he briefly wondered if he were going to die. Then he vomited. He seemed to do that a lot in Neville's presence. Neville pat his back unhappily. This was supposed to be their moment. Why the hell had he decided to confess now? When Harry was drunk and stupid? Perhaps he hoped not to get so firmly rejected.

"Ughh." Harry said as he vomited again. Neville pretended it meant 'I like you too, let's date!' In reality it probably meant 'Why are there always carrots?'

"Hey!" shouted a slurry voice. "Aaa—re you HARRY FUCKING POTTERRR?"

For a moment, Neville thought they must be wizards, but it looked to be three young muggles. They were highly inebriated. Neville was at loss. This just kept getting messier. He very much wished they had made it down the rest of the street. He could _see_ the house, for Merlin's sake.

"THE FUCKER THAT ST-TOLE MY GIRLFRIEND?"

"Shit." Harry moaned. "What are you talking about?" He wiped his mouth and straightened to face his opponent. "I guarantee she isn't my type." Neville couldn't help but snort.

"This is him, mate! That's Potter!" One of the other boys said. The boy who had somehow misplaced his girlfriend suddenly swung out at Harry. Neville's instincts were slow and shocked, but Harry's, despite his current state, was as sharp as an Auror. He ducked and rammed his arm, full strength into his face. The boy crumpled immediately and his friends caught him and flung him back into position. He took a few wild swipes that Harry would have dodged easily, had he been done throwing up. Vomit rushed him just as the boy swung a cracking hit into Harry's nose and Harry turned to vomit as blood dripped out of his nose.

"Ugh!" Harry moaned. "I'm never drinking again." He toned the cliché out sickly.

Neville stepped in then. "Easy mates, easy. He didn't steal anyone's girl, honest."

"Aw, like bloody hell." One of the friends said uncertainly. "He won't stop till he's knocked out anyways." They shrugged. The boy threw a punch which caught Neville on the lip.

"H-Hey!" He said, touching his split lip. Harry saw red and his mind cleared. With two swift hits to some strategic places the boy crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. He raised his fits to his face and looked at the other boys.

"Anyone else want to take a swing at my mate?" Harry said through the slough of blood painting his face. The boys stared in awe at their friend bleeding into the snow.

"Bloody hell." One of them muttered. "Sorry mate. Let's get him in the car." He said to his friend.

'No way, you all driving?" Harry said, mind clear still. "Not on my watch. I own an Inn. Sleep it off there, no charge." He helped the two boys hoist their friend onto their shoulders and staggered a lead into the house. Neville followed, bewildered. Harry cast a few silent spells over the boy he'd obliterated to make sure he hadn't any concussions. He sleepily led the boys to their rooms, informing them to stay quiet.

"There's a baby on the next floor sleeping." he told them, starting to feel more and more bleary. Neville silently helped him climb the stairs, and helped him clean the blood off his face. As he wiped a wet cloth over Harry's chin, Harry stared at him. Neville was kind. It was all over him, like a smell. All Harry could smell was his own blood and a little vomit, but he could remember Neville's smell. It was something sweet, he knew, but earthy.

"I like you too, Nev." Harry said. "A lot. I would very much like to date you." Neville smiled, warmed right to his insides.

"Yeah, we'll see what you say tomorrow, alright."

"No, Nev, listen. I like you. I like everything about you. When I kissed you after your gran died, I was just using your weakness. I liked you even then. I like you. I like you." He kept repeating it drunkly, sounding so beautifully honest. So wonderfully sweet. Neville kissed him chastely and softly and put him to bed. All he could do now is hope Harry felt the same come morning light. And a little confident part of him felt certain he would.

-.-.-.

Is Harry a bit of a slut? I'm not sure XD lol, but I like him this way.


	6. Where I Was Supposed To Be

_hey you all! thanks for all the reveiws at alerts and favourites! you are the bestest! :) if you keep rewarding my like this, i'll keep updating this fast! honest, my dearies! so this chappie earns a little bit of an M rating so be wary of any apporaching sex! gasp! the horror! i'v never really written...smut...like this before so if its dreadful, do inform! Much love- Eternity. _

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><p><em>December 20th 3 Years A.V.<em>

The morning came like a slow wave crashing over Harry. He remembered, with a bubble of hope, Neville. He remembered…everything. The way Neville had looked at him through his lashes, shy and hopeful. His heart took flight. He rolled over. He dressed shakily, uncertainly. What if he'd invented it all? And still, he felt such a thrill fill him. He was happy. He walked slowly downstairs. Neville was sitting in the great green armchair Sirius had sat in years and years ago, staring out the window. The streets were dry with early light and a glisten of snow held a Christmasy promise.

"Neville." Harry said quietly and Neville started a little, turning to look at him.

"Harry," He replied, glancing sideways. "How are you-er-feeling?" Heart still hammering Harry sat in the rocking chair.

"Okay, I guess. Sorry I made such an arse of myself."

"Oh, no, no, not at all." Neville paused. "Well maybe a little." They laughed. It was like music, the way they pitched together artfully.

"Listen, Nev," Harry said then stopped. Neville picked up the strand of conversation softly.

"How much do you remember?" Neville said, turning to look at him face on.

"Most of it." He said, gazing into Neville's eyes. Neville's leg twitched.

Suddenly their lips were together. Neither was sure who had started it, which had moved first, but it didn't matter. Finally they were both on the same page.

Neville tasted as he had always tasted; sweet, sweaty, and a little bit like dirt. Harry found he liked the musky, gardener taste that Neville had. It stirred something in him, something he wasn't sure he understood. Something feral and a little animalistic rose in him, to match Neville's earthy nature. He ground their hips together, and was glad of Neville's equal enthusiasm.

Neville gripped tightly to Harry's legs and hoisted them up around his waist and slammed him against the door frame. Harry moaned and clutched him closer. This was perfect, this was meant to happen. Pleased, he pushed his hands under Neville's shirt and gripped at the slight muscles there that had been carved by lifting heavy pots and plants and pruning the pods. Neville's strength was natural, it belonged there.  
>Neville hands followed suit, pushing Harry's shirt right up to his shoulders and he bent to bite and lick the exposed body. Harry was built like a seeker, tight but slim muscles. Defined without bulging. Harry was much fitter than Neville and Neville felt his embarrassment swell. He didn't have a 6 pack. He didn't have any packs. He tried to suck in his gut, inadvertently biting hard against Harry's shoulder. Harry gasped and murmured his desire for more.<br>"Neville!" he moaned pulling Neville up to his mouth, where he bit down on Neville's lower lip. Neville, startled, inadvertently retaliated and a sharp pain mingled with pleasure as Harry tasted blood. Harry, Neville was surprised to find, liked it a little rough.

Neville pulled back to grin at harry, whose lips were swollen and red, eyes burning in excitement. Harry grinned back.  
>" we should have done this YEARS ago!" harry said a look of blissful satisfaction on his face. Neville's face was content, but hungry. He leaned in again, this time the desperation had calmed, and his actions were slow and pleasant. He kissed Harry, so gently and affectionately Harry thought he'd simply melt into a liquid version of himself. He'd never been kissed like that before. Slowly, Harry's hand ran south, gliding over the body he found so enticing. He fingered each curve, each stretch of skin like diamonds under his touch. He reached to grasp the waistband of Neville's plaid pyjama pants. Neville nearly growled against Harry's mouth, surprised. The slowness of the kiss was changing, morphing into something fast and dangerous again. The hand that had started it all, the little slice of pure heaven that Neville had been waiting for inched lower. He bit down again, this time on Harry's neck and was pleased that the skin turned red and bright with his teeth marks. He licked slowly along them, his breath hitching as Harry's hand dipped below the band and brushed the soft hairs. Almost.<p>

Just then a little gasp issued from beside them. Rather suddenly the two wizards remembered the presence of three young male muggles in the house. They pulled apart to look into the living room, startled, and sure enough the three boys gazed back dumbfounded. Harry murmured a swear word, as Neville slowly dropped Harry's legs and pulled back, his face pink with embarrassment. He covered his mouth with his hand and backed away.

The two friends shuffled awkwardly, mouths wide and eyes bulging. The boy without a girlfriend, eye swollen and black gave a strangled sound and said, almost exasperatedly.

"Well, I guess you didn't actually try to steal my girlfriend." he said, eye brows raised. Harry couldn't help but laugh, albeit guiltily, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"No, no, I definitely didn't," he said "Er, come into the kitchen guys." Harry ushered them into seats around the kitchen table and they silently marvelled at the view of the backyard, lush with snow crystals and ice along a beautiful path leading to a frozen, fanciful lake under the weeping of a giant willow. Neville gave it an appreciative glance; his plans had been meticulously followed, down to the currently dead baby's breath exploding from a legless old fashioned wheel barrow. He pointed at the large glass window that swallowed half the kitchen wall.

"It looks great, Harry." He said quietly, though something itched in his throat. It had been done without him. Done, possibly, with Malfoy of all people.

"Thanks..." Harry said awkwardly which made Neville think he'd been spot on.

"You guys hungry for some breakfast or something?" Harry asked turning on the stove and putting a pot tenderly on top.

"Ughh, no." Murmured one of the boys, looking pale. "I'm hung over still." the others nodded.

" I've got a fool proof solution." Harry said, opening a strange parchment book and flipping to a well worn page. He began emptying weird ingredients into it well the muggles looked on warily. Neville peered at the recipes written in thin slanted writing that was very familiar but clearly not Harry's. Harry poured in some frog spawn and set Neville to chopping up dragle roots into neat little squares.

"So, uh, do you guys own this B&B together?" the black-eyed boy said awkwardly.

"Oh no," Harry said counting every third counter clockwise stir and throwing in a clockwise one. "Neville teaches at a boarding school, so he's only free during holidays. I run the b&b when there's customers." he looked up sharply as though to make a point, "but I also work for the government part time. I'm self-supportive." he snipped pointedly as the boys glanced each other. "Not that it's any of your business." he added in clipped tones. They nodded looking uncomfortable but Harry took this as a sign to revert to usually pleasantries. The potion was finished, and he poured the clear pink water equally into four cups. He handed them out and swallowed his in one go then excused himself to the washroom. The boys remained silently staring at their cups while Neville flipped through the potions book curiously. In swirled writing on the front cover it read "Property of Severus Snape." Neville's eyebrows came together in confusion. Harry returned and looked about at the full glasses.

" I haven't poisoned them." he said lightly. "Trust me, they work. But you will have to piss afterwards." he added as they swallowed. A few moments later they all darted upstairs looking as though they were about to burst.  
>"Brilliant invention of Snape's sucks all the alcohol straight to the bladder." Harry shook his head, smiling. He flicked his fingers and the ingredients put themselves away neatly as the pot began to wash itself in the sink. "Are you thirsty?" Harry asked as a cup drifted down from the cupboard and landed on the counter. He opened the fridge. "I've got orange juice, lemonade and fruit punch." Neville looked surprised and Harry flushed.<p>

"Oh! I have pumpkin juice too!"

"What's fruit punch taste like?" Neville asked leaning into peer at the muggle juices in befuddlement. Harry grinned and poured him a glass. As he put the juice away and the glass drifted lazily into Neville's hands, Neville gazed at Snapes book.

"Why do you have Professor Snapes private recipes?"

"They were throwing all his stuff out of Dumbledore's office and I, well I nicked it to be honest. I have some other stuff. Photos of my mum, some potions books and DADA books." Harry flushed. Neville smiled, and drank some juice. He looked befuddled but seemed to enjoy it.

"You're a good person for rescuing his stuff." He complimented. Harry's neck was red and trailed with Neville's own teeth marks. He desperately wanted to return to their early interactions. To finish, pardon his pun, what they had begun. But there were young boys upstairs, and Teddy, Neville remembered with a start.

"Well, I reckon he'd be peeved that I ended up with it of all people but I couldn't let them toss it all. He-he deserved better than he got." Harry turned away abruptly and turned the stove on again as bread lifted itself into the toaster. Eggs shot out of the fridge as Harry put two cooking pans on the stove top and a package of frozen bacon drifted to his side. Neville watched, a little awed as Harrys hand seemed to thaw the bacon instantly and eggs began cracking themselves into the other pan.

"Harry, you've really got a gift for wandless, non verbal spells!" he muttered as the table set itself behind them.

"Oh," Harry seemed embarrassed at the compliment. "Well I was a wreck at non-verbals but in aurour training they take away your wand and try and get you to do Wandless stuff and it just came to me naturally. Nonverbal was easy when I no longer had to think about holding a wand and knowing the spell. I just knew what I wanted and the Latin just flowed into my head and it happened. How does that quote go? _Magic is really very simple, all you have to do is want something and then let yourself have it._ They were all really impressed; thought Dumbledore had taught it to me or something. One of the teachers told me it was usually a gift among muggleborns because they didn't know they needed wands when they were kids and their magic was sort of suppressed. I told him that nobody was as magically suppressed as me when I was a kid. The Dursleys tried to squash magic out of me. Literally. So I was predisposed to it." he shrugged and Neville had to shake the urge to sigh. Poor Harry always suffered the most but always turned out the best for it. It was such a weird mix of lucky and unlucky. The boys re-entered the room and all magic stopped as Harry caught the spatula above the eggs and the tongs spinning over the bacon.

"That works amazingly!" One said.

"Had to piss like a race horse, though." Said another.

"Breakfast smells awesome." the last added. The tallest boy, the gentle giant, was a broad blond name Manny and the other smallish, boy-faced one was named Dale and the black-eyed boy was Matt.

"Listen," Matt said around a mouthful of bacon. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I was pretty well smashed. Shouldn't of done it."

"Forget about it." Harry said with an absent shrug, sipping his coffee. Teddy appeared in the doorway then.

"Hey, you little monster, why are you up so early?" Harry asked as Teddy made his way onto his lap.

"Breakfast, Daddy." He said pointedly, as though this were obvious.

"Silly me." Harry said, rolling his eyes and smiling. Andromeda followed shortly afterward, fully dressed.

"Oh, look. Guests." She said tiredly and poured herself a cup of coffee. She was irritable and tired.

"Good morning, Nanny." Harry said, and it sounded like a heartfelt apology. She gave him a weary but forgiving look. Than she turned her eyes to Neville and raised her thin eyebrows. Neville smiled and tried to convey every confusing and happy moment to her in the smile. She left the room grinning.

"Nanny mad at you, Daddy." Teddy said, shovelling Harry's breakfast into his mouth.

"Oh really, Ted?" Harry played with Ted's hair, fluffing it straight up. It was spelled to look stationary coloured in the presence of Muggles. It was a mousy brown, the exact colour Lupin's had been. It was thick as hell and needed a bath. Today, Harry thought absently.

"Yeah, said you been a bad boy." Teddy said. Matt and the others looked guilty.

"That's our fault, little guy." Matt said and Teddy looked up at him with interest.

"I'm Teddy." He said pleasantly as he chewed on Harry's toast. Harry reached over and snatched Neville's toast in exchange.

"Hey!" Neville exclaimed cheerfully.

"I'm Matt." Matt said.

"Dale!"

"Manny!"

"Do you live in the many people house?" Teddy asked and Harry rubbed his head. The boys laughed.

"It's the college house, Ted, all those people go to school together. They live there to be near their school."

"Like Hogwarts?" Teddy asked, leaning his head back against Harry's chest to peer up into his face. Harry nodded.

"Sometimes!" Manny said brightly, mind rummaging through Hogwarts blankly. Sounded made up to him. Children are like that though, funny little things. Some part of his mind also noted that Harry appeared far too young to have a child that age. Also, far too gay.

"Hey," Harry said suddenly, looking up at them. "How many people live there anyway?"

"Technically?" Dale said, glancing at his friends.

"Six." Matt replied.

"But there's a never ending supply of visitors who make themselves welcome occasionally, us included." Manny finished, smiling pleasantly, if a little annoyed sounding. Harry nodded, somewhat shocked. "We don't really live there though. It's a girl's house and last night Matt's girl kicked us out. Said…said she was leaving him for neighbour named Harry Potter." Manny glanced at Matt uncertainly.

Neville looked at Harry. Harry looked back.

"I had no plans whatsoever to date any of those girls." He said to Neville. "In fact, I'm not sure I can tell them apart…they look so similar." Neville laughed.

"I believe you, Harry. Besides, I have a feeling she isn't your type."

Harry covered Teddy's ears and stage whispered. "Yes, she'd have those nasty things called breasts, wouldn't she?"

"And quiet possibly a-dare I say it?-a vagina." Neville stage whispered back as Harry faked a dramatic shudder. They both looked over at the boys. They were laughing slightly.

"Oh man, Missy has just let her imagination run away with her. Well, that's just fine. She can stay on her own, the cu-uh-baddie." He said, glancing at Teddy who was attentively listening in.

"Oh, dear." Harry shook his head. "I should have told the neighbours, I suppose, about my illicit love affairs."

They laughed in earnest then and the boys left soon afterwards thanking Harry and leaving paper notes in the tip jar after Harry refused to accept anything from them. Andromeda, sensing the importance of this time in Harry's life, took this time to take Teddy to visit her cousin.

Finally they were alone, and mildly uncertain of how to progress. A rather large part of Neville just wanted to jump and fondle Harry, but their relationship would never progress into reality if all they did was have awkward but heated sexual interactions. They had to discuss. Like adults. This made Neville firmly uncomfortable. Harry made them tea, his Englishness leaking into all sorts of things. The two of them had consumed more than enough tea with all their awkward conversations.

Harry glanced down at the teacup caught between his hands. Harry was feeling rather similarly to Neville. There was an overwhelming desire to pin Neville to the table beneath his thighs. Or, better yet, he longed for Neville to press Harry against the table and exert that strange power, that unexpected dominance over Harry. Harry was just so tired of being the one to act. He longed to be acted upon and taken apart and undone. Harry was just so tired of being the leader, for once he wanted to be meek and submissive. Not like he had been at the Dursley's, not isolated or forcibly controlled, but guided. And Neville was so sexy when he had control. Harry shuddered and tried to hide it by sipping his tea.

"So-"

"I-" they both began and stopped, looking at each other. Harry smiled.

"Do you really want me?" Neville said. "You could have anyone."

Harry nodded. "I want you. Do you want me?"

"More than you can imagine." Neville said, taking a long sip of tea to mask his embarrassment at being so bold.

"Well, I have a son to take care of." Harry said, somewhat uncertainly. He certainly couldn't be made to choose between the two, it would be unwise if Neville asked him to do so. As unhappy as it would have made Harry to not have Neville, Teddy was more important than Harry's feelings.

"And I work at a boarding school." Neville said, equally uncertain. Harry blinked, having somewhat forgotten.

"Oh, I guess that makes us pretty balanced then." Harry said, with a startled sort of happiness. Neville nodded, rather happy with how things were going. "We'll be long distance, which will be…interesting. We should set up a floo network between my room and yours. We'll ask MacGonagal, I'm sure she'll be fine with it." Neville was flushed with happiness.

"That's a brilliant idea, Harry." Neville nodded and reached his hand over to touch Harry's wrist. Harry flipped over his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"I have a favour to ask you as well. Teddy's been asking about relatives and I…I'd like to take him to visit my cousin. I know where he lives but I don't know if we'd be-well-welcome and I don't think I could go alone and I just-well- it's not my uncle and aunt and Dudley I think he had a different, he seemed different when we parted-said I wasn't a waste of space which sounds poor taste but really-you don't know what it was like-what if it's a mistake? I don't know if I should-well-I'm not…" Harry rambled uncertainly.

"I'll go." Neville said firmly, interrupting the flustering Harry. "It's alright." He gave a soft laugh. "I'd be happy to go with you." He squeezed Harry's hand.

"I'm sorry that I asked you this, like, seconds into our relationship."

"Its fine, Harry, that's what boyfriends are for." The word boyfriend cascaded out of his mouth somewhat awkwardly and it tasted sweet and strange to Harry.

"Boyfriend." Harry said, it was cottony in his mouth. Neville nodded. "What else do your duties include?"

"Well, we Christmas together. If anyone hits on you I withhold the right to glare jealously. I get angry when people insult you. I attend ex-lover's weddings with you and say nasty things about the groom." He winked at this one and Harry smirked.

"Sounds good."

"I'll bring you flowers." Neville continued and leaned in to kiss Harry gently.

"I love flowers." Harry said, kissing Neville back equally soft.

"I'll do chores for you."

"Mm." Harry murmured as Neville kissed along his chin and up to his temple.

"Make you food." He caught Harry's ear between his teeth.

"St-" Harry breathed. "Wai-"

Neville pulled back uncertainly.

"What?" Harry's face was rosy and his hand was pressed against the ear Neville had bit, his eyes wide and aroused and looking straight down at the table.

"Still more to…discuss." Harry trailed and looked away, again flushed with warmth.

"Oh?"

"Sex!" Harry gasped. "He have to talk about sex!" his palm covered the bottom half of his face, which didn't hide his reddening ears.

"Gladly." Neville said cheekily, though feeling rather embarrassed himself. He could have sex, but he'd never talked about it. What did sex talks include exactly?

"I haven't…I mean, with a man-all the way, that is…" Harry trailed, his palm muffling the words. Neville didn't allow himself to thing about that until it was clarified.

"Harry, you never had sex with Malfoy? Or Fred and George?" he said sharply, hoping to make everything clear immediately.

"Well, we did a lot of oral but never…" he glanced out the window uncomfortably. "Anal." He said finally, like it tortured him to say.

Neville shouldn't have felt his heart speed up and soar. _Oh man. Instant erection. _Neville thought, and it was true, he was burning with this thought of a virgin Harry. He wanted to take him right there on the table.

"What about you and D-Dean? Or the Prof? Mena?"

"Mena and I never got that far." Neville said. "Hannah and I didn't either." he paused. "Dean and I did."

"Who?" Harry said and made a weird gesture with his hands.

"Topped? Dean." Neville, replied. Harry seemed to sink a little down.

"Oh." He said.

"What?" Neville prodded, shifting his chair so he was face to face with Harry. "Jealous?"

"A little." Harry said with a shrug. "But mostly…I mean. You never topped?" Neville shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. He couldn't grasp exactly what Harry was saying.

"Well I would rather you-" Harry started, stopped, swallowed and continued. "I'd rather you-If you don't want to that's alright and we won't be going that far any time soon, I'm not ready, but when we get to that…I'd rather you fucked me." Harry said and looked into Neville's eyes with piercing green. Neville nearly exploded. He had Harry on the table in seconds, his hands pinning the dark haired man down. Running along his body as he firmly raped Harry's mouth with his tongue. Harry moaned and Neville echoed it with a groan of his own. He bit Harry's lip, catching his bottom lip between his teeth sharply. He ground his pelvis between Harry's legs, one of which was hooked over Neville's shoulder and the other wrapped around his hip. The heat was exotic.

"I-I'll take that as a-ah- yes." Harry gasped out as Neville bit along his chest, pushing the shirt away with a certain madness. The animal in him was back and Harry revelled in its heat. Neville bit firmly on a nipple in response.

"How the hell did you get this sexy?" Neville accused, his own voice ruffled and achy. Harry brought his hands to cover his mouth as he gasped loudly. Neville ripped them away so he could hear those sounds, those gorgeous, mutilated sounds and stare at that flush face.

"Look at that face." Neville panted, dry thrusting their still clothed hips together roughly. Harry almost mewled, his lips parting and still wet with Neville's saliva. "So fuckable." He ground at the right angle, catching their cocks together fleshly. Harry dug him nails into Neville's shoulders and arched his back, pushing their bodies together wantonly.

"Neville!" he gasped wetly. More friction, Neville thought wordlessly and pressed his whole weight into the writhing body beneath him and ground ferociously together as he caught that pretty little mouth with his own. They kissed savagely, tongues scrapping along tongues and teeth roughly catching lips. They both tasted blood and either bothered to wonder who was bleeding. This rough love was filled with so much anguish and stress and desperate longing. This was something that had pent up over so much time and finally, finally, as they ground together, still fully clothed, they came together into the morning light, breaking the kiss only to call each other's names out into the day. Neville continue thrusting, but slower, less wildly as they rode out their orgasms'. Harry rose to meet him at each thrust and found Neville's hand lifting him gently on the small of his back a great comfort. They kissed slowly, colours spinning and minds reeling in pleasure. Finally they stilled, slowly grinding to stop and Neville simply leaned down to kiss him softly and sweetly brushing bloody lips. He pulled back, and stared down into Harry. Harry leaned back against the table, panting softly and smiling. His lips were bleeding a little in the corner and were brutalized red, his cheeks were flushed pleasantly, his eyes half lidded and glowing a green brighter than Neville had ever seen. The sweat dampening his face made him glisten. He pressed his forehead against Harry's own and kissed him chastely once more.

"I've been waiting for this." Harry sighed softly.

"Me too." Neville said, brushing the wet hair from Harry's face.

"Neville." He sighed, no more than a gentle caress of a name and it melted some deep sorrow in Neville and illuminated a rich sadness, which was also a happiness. It was, Neville realised slowly, the feeling of belonging. Something he had never felt anywhere except here, in Harry's loose and warm embrace.

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><p>(as I wrote this chapter, a woman sitting near me was talking to her dog named Neville! He was soooo cute! made writing the sex scenes even MORE awkward. and yes, i wrote them in a public place...a tim hortons at my university (coffee place, for you non-canadians) haha...awks. any canadians out there? perhaps attending UoG? lol<p> 


	7. Muddled Timing and Not Telling

Thanks for all the love, as per usual :) i love ALL of you, but not in a weirrrd creepy way, honest...ANYWHO i had a bit of trouble with this chapter. I wanted to introduce Dudley into the story but i couldn't get the timing right. i re wrote it a couple times but, i don;t know. Maybe later. Well, thoughts?

Ps thanks to RRW for catching my awkward mispell! whoops! and for comenting on pretty much every chapter!and yes Draco will reappear. and NATWEST, so will those boys...i rather like them. AND SO MUCH LOVE TO YOU OTHERS AS WELL! THANKS FOR REVIEWS!

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><p><em>Moments Afterward<em>

Harry didn't know what to do with Neville, exactly. It felt the same as always, but also vastly different. They lay on the table, well Harry on the table and Neville on Harry, panting awhile. Harry stroked Neville's hair absently, holding him loosely in his arms. It felt right, to be holding Neville so near him. Warm and dry and earthy, Neville belonged there. He hadn't felt like this before. It was a bit like how he felt when he was young whenever he came back to Hogwarts. He couldn't put a name to it, or a word or even a particular feeling. It was just something large and scary and lovely. Hard to feel, almost. Like someone had flipped lonesome on its head.

Neville finally sat up, though he didn't want to. The position was awkward but wonderful.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away." Neville helped Harry get up. "Shouldn't have done that in the kitchen." Harry, still dizzy and fuzzy from the interaction made a protesting noise that clearly said he'd been perfectly fine with what occurred as he waved his hand absently and the kitchen tidied itself.

"I should shower." Harry said. "Teddy and Nanny will be back by lunch." He glanced at the clock, it was almost noon. He wanted a Weasley clock, he'd have to pop over and see Mrs. Weasley and ask her. Neville agreed and walked behind Harry up the stairs. He wished he would have had the patience to take Harry up these stairs and into a bedroom; instead he had desperately flattened him against any available service and rutted him like an animal. It should have been more-romantic. Neville was hardly to be blamed. He was only twenty, his libido was still raging. He felt certain, if he wanted to, he could ravage Harry in the shower and again in the bedroom, on the stairs and against the wall. His body could even handle doing it out in the snow, under the trees Malfoy had planted. A bit of a show of dominance, a celebration of winning, if you will. Neville wanted to grind (pardon the pun) his winnings into Malfoy's showy face.

"I'm worth twelve of Malfoy." Neville said suddenly, looking at Harry's back as they climbed the stairs. Harry paused and turned in the narrow stairway. He examined Neville's face thoughtfully. The curve of Neville's jaw wasn't anywhere near perfect, his eyes were a sweet blue, his ears were large and pleasant and one of his eyebrows was significantly higher than the other. He was simply the most wonderful thing Harry could thing of.

"A million, at least." Harry corrected and put his hand on Neville's cheek. The stubble scratched him gently. "I'm sorry. It should have been you."

While Neville showered, Harry having already cleansed himself and disappeared to do some paperwork, he thought about Harry and Malfoy. It didn't make sense to him; it confused him and flipped his mind inside out and backwards. It just didn't seem right. Malfoy was a terrible person, not a bad _person_, he supposed, but not a nice one. He had ridiculed Neville his entire Hogwarts career. He had been cruel. And he'd been just as cruel to Harry. How could anyone who had suffered through Draco Malfoy ever purposefully go back? He felt a similar confusion when he thought of Severus Snape's book downstairs. Harry had said he deserved more than he got. Harry had told the world that Snape had been Dumbledore's man all along. But just because he was good didn't mean he was kind. He had been heartless and cruel to them, overly so to Harry. And Neville had hated him. And the incident with Hermione's teeth still set his own on edge. He simply couldn't fathom it. Snape was a bully. Malfoy was one too. If Harry wanted to be bullied, well, their relationship wasn't going to go well. Rough, sure, Neville didn't mind a bit of rough love. But Neville, the victim of so much, would never be able to be the bully. It twisted his stomach. So, when he was dressed, he headed down for another talk with Harry. Feelings were not Neville's strong suit and talking about them made him nauseous, but this was Harry. Things had to be done.

"Harry?" He called, wandering into the living space. Harry was perched neatly on the green armchair and was staring absently at the family tree on the wall. A network of friends made family by tiny dotted lines.

"Hm?" Harry looked away, wishing he'd been caught doing the pile of paperwork on his lap rather than staring at Dumbledore's picture thoughtfully. He'd been wishing he could ask Dumbledore for advice and was considering visiting his old confidant's portrait at Hogwarts. Neville's hair was damp and dark against his skin and his clothes were fresh and hugged tightly to the slightly wet body. Harry tried to manage the fast pace his heart now occupied.

Neville sat heavily in the couch, puffing out a large breath. He leaned back into the head rest, tilting his head over the top and stared at the ceiling. Harry conjured a towel absentmindedly and walked around the back of the couch to ruffle Neville's wet hair with it. One of the perils of fatherhood, it seemed, was the constant ache to take care of others. Neville, who thought this would be strange as it began, found it oddly comforting. Harry ruffled his hair a few more times with the fluffy towel.

"You might catch somewhat, you know. It's winter." He scolded lightly.

"Oh, sure." Neville said. "The dry, heated living room is simply a deathtrap in the making."

"Psh." Harry said with a smile and the towel popped away. He climbed over the low couch to sit with Neville. He brought his knees up near his chin and leaned his cheek on them so he was facing Neville. His toes fiddled, bear as they were, against each other. Neville marvelled at this tiny fact, that Harry twiddled his toes, and stored it deep in his mind in the rolodex labelled _Important_. Neville then refocused on the task at hand.

"Harry." Neville said seriously and then seemed at a loss. "I just don't understand so many things." He sounded frustrated and he ran a hand through his almost dry hair. Harry said nothing. He had learned after years of dealing with people who didn't want to say something, that the best response is silence. Eventually they must say it. And indeed, as the silence stretched, Neville licked his lips nervously.

"He was so mean to you. To everyone. He was a death eater!" Harry instantly knew this referred to Malfoy, though Neville was thinking of two former Slytherins. Harry turned to face the painted wall again, to face Sirius.

"He wasn't just a death eater. Just like you are not just a herbology Professor."

"Sure, but I don't bring a teacher personality here either. But that's who he _was,_ he was cruel."

"He had a hard life." It was almost exasperated sounding, like he'd muddled through similar conversations before.

"So did you. So did I." Neville said resolutely. Harry smiled sadly a bit and turned to look Neville in those sweet as anything blue eyes. He reached over and squeezed Neville's well worn hand twice before bringing it to touch his forehead carelessly.

"Nev, it's hard, I know, to see past actions sometimes. But people hurt and carry hurt in different ways. Malfoy was mean to me but he was sad as well. And the man who showed up on my doorstep the day after you left was different. His hurt had got all twisted and I wanted to help him straighten it out. In the end I put him right back how he was before. I shouldn't have. That twist was good for him, it straightened out his crooked. And I think he'll get bent into shape again. But it's different sometimes, when you see things from their perspective. I mean, look at Snape. He hated my father. He hated me. But it's impossible for me to hate him, it's impossible to hate someone who loved your mother." It spilled like coins on a table, overflowing the smooth edges, bouncing and spinning onto the floor.

"Snape loved your mother?" Neville said quietly.

"Always did." Harry nodded, some how sorrowful. "And I can't help but feel sadness for him. We both loved her, and neither of us got her very long. You know what that's like."

Neville wanted to reach out and touch Harry's face but he couldn't bring himself too and then the moment passed.

"You see the good in everyone, don't you? How irritating." He kidded instead, instantly hating himself. Why the hell did he say that? Idiot. But Harry laughed lightly.

"There _is _good in everyone. The world isn't split into good people and deatheaters Neville, we all have both good and bad. What matters is what we act on. Sirius taught me that."

"Smart man."

"Very." They sat while.

"Will you tell me everything, someday?" Neville asked, brushing his hair with his fingers.

"Probably. But learn a bit of patience." Harry punched Neville's side. "We don't have to do everything today."

And they didn't of course; they had all the time they wanted to have. Maybe more. Instead they talked amicably about Neville's work and students he was teaching with familiar names. Terry Boot's much younger brother, a few Weasley cousins and a young Vector, a Professor's son. As Neville told an uproariously funny story about a boy who had foolishly eaten a proffered Weasley Wizard Wheezing candy and ended up with his arms and legs switched, Harry slipped his hand into Neville's. It was calloused with years of labour and Harry turned it over in his hand to peer at a smattering of scars traced on the back were line after line had been written with a cursed quill.

"Hm," Neville said, sounding embarrassed. "Tad ugly, isn't? Reckon I could have it removed?" he brushed along the scar.

"No, scars from dark magic don't leave you easy." Harry said and thought of his scar. Then he flipped their clutched hands to show off his own cursed words.

_I will not tell lies._

It blazed white against his taut skin.

"'Sides, we're a matching set." He smiled and flipped Neville's hand back over. He kissed the mark.

"We certainly suit each other." Neville was rather pleased with this conclusion. Then he reached a hand up to Harry's face, gliding under the hair to push it up. The scar stared baldly back at him. He traced a warm line over it with his index and Harry shivered at the gentle movement.

"Sorry!" Neville jerked his hand away, startled.

"No," Harry said, moving toward the hand a pinch. "It's fine, just strange. Sensitive spot." The rolodex catalogued this as well.

"Does it hurt?" Neville asked while he brushed it again more slowly.

"No." Harry said, suppressing the shiver. "It used to, but not anymore. Now if just feels-gapping. Empty, I guess?"

"Weird." Harry realized, a little guiltily, that Neville knew nothing of horocruxes or Harry's scar or even what killing the snake had meant. He wanted to tell him, but some deep disgust settled in his stomach. A self disgust. He never wanted Neville to know about the dark ugly he had carried, about the stain he knew was missing and now felt bare at its black absence. Something lonely had severed itself and filled the spot but even that had left him and soon it was the dark unhappy. He tried to mentally push away what was not there anymore. It was like trying to move air with spread fingers.

Neville could see that something had upset Harry, he understood its importance. He also understood, rather wisely, that neither of them was prepared to unearth what had been hidden. Harry had planted a seed and Neville wasn't to dig it up. It would curl up naturally as long as he cared for it. But still, the wound inside Harry's mind, so violently linked to the mark on his forehead troubled Neville. He decided a little healing-a little watering, was necessary. So without thinking about it too much, Neville leaned forward and licked firmly across Harry's scar.

The tongue was strong and firm and raked roughly once across the scar. Neville seemed almost catlike; his lithe body leaned sideways against Harry, his strong jaw, his long arms braced on the couch and appealing muscles flexed. And the lick itself set fire to the skin. Harry just sat still and let it burn. His heart pounded against his chest bones like wild dancers and lost any sort of known rhythm. He ached as Neville soothed the lonely right out of his mind with one swipe of his tongue. Neville leaned down slightly, so their faces were just inches apart and stared into Harry's eyes. The first thing he would get rid of were the glasses that only just obscured his vision right into those piercing green which set light some ancient fire inside of him. Harry contained something wild, he just knew it, under those eyes.

Of course that's when Teddy and Nana came home. And for the first time, Neville really understood that he was dating a father. It was disappointing, slightly, to be interrupted. But Neville was much too fond of Teddy to bare any real animosity. And if Harry wasn't a father he wouldn't be who he is now, the person Neville liked. He would be the Harry who left his godson. And that wasn't the Harry that Neville had kissed.

It was a peaceable afternoon after that, full of tea and mild discussion. The three of them, at Teddy's request, went out into the snow and made a snowman with a large top hat and a carrot nose. Harry charmed him and the snowman let out a great cough and rubbed his hands together until Teddy gave him mittens and a scarf. Teddy was absolutely delighted.

Inside they drank Nana's cocoa and sat by the fire talking of other things as the radio played Muggle Christmas carols. Outside the snowman sneezed and a passing Muggle glanced around uncertainly for the source and stared for several moments at the snowman before walking away much brisker than before. It was one of those afternoons that made paintings. At night Neville gave Harry a chaste kiss before bedding down in the room down the hall. It was painful, the distance both so short and so long it yo-yoed his feelings sharply. It was too soon, perhaps for them to live together. Or maybe it was too late to start dating. Their natural timeline should have come to a start in the summer. They were missing all the proper firsts. Malfoy occupied them. Neville tried to let this musty thought go, but it bubbled in his mind. And the days past like this, casually eking towards Christmas with a general and exceedingly happy pleasantness.


	8. The Red Head's Dog

_December 23 _

Christmas shopping for Teddy had become one of Harry's favourite things. Every single toy he saw seemed positively perfect. Hermione warned him time and time again that he would spoil Teddy rotten and Harry would nod understandingly, thinking about a mound of presents that were already wrapped at home. Harry had taken Neville shopping in Muggle London. Harry sometimes forgot how lucky he was to be so balanced. He knew both worlds so well. But he enjoyed watching Neville's childlike wonder at the underground, at the stores with glowing light bulbs, flashing cell phones and laptops. Harry waited patiently while Neville played a game on a display phone that flung rather upset animated birds into piles of green pigs. Neville rode the escalator three times before Harry could finally drag him into a perfume store.

"Which one does she wear?" Neville asked, leaning close to peer over Harry's shoulder.

"This one." Harry said, raising the white round bottle. Neville's breath was warm on his cheek. Neville lifted the hand holding the bottle up towards his face and sniffed.

"Woah. It does smell like Hermione!" Neville looked a tad surprised. Hermione had been wearing this scent for five years ever since Harry gifted her a bottle randomly. He had merely liked the scent and thought it reminded him of her. She positively adored it. It was sweet and light, like vanilla and pear and laundry. But it also reminded Harry of old libraries and bookstores and fresh grass and reading by the dim candles on the Weasley porch. It suited Hermione very well. And every year he bought her a bottle and a book. A Muggle book. It was like their own little world when Harry bought her muggle things. Ron was simply confused by it, but they both understood their origins and the wonderful things that had come from their good fortunate change. It used to be that Harry thought of Ginny when he thought of his good fortunate. Now, staring at the pear shaped bottle he thought how lucky he was to have met Neville. He sprayed the tester and hit Neville square in the chest.

"Hey!" Neville exclaimed. He scooped up a ridiculous pink bottle and drenched Harry in "Sex on The Beach"

Harry was not, of course, amused. He sprayed Neville with "Cotton Candy Delight" who returned the favour with a raunchy men's cologne which smelt heavily of some unnameable 'manly' thing which clashed unpleasantly with the beach-sex. Fanning away a cloud of perfume, and protesting grumpily as Neville laughed, Harry approached the counter with a box of Hermione's perfume.

"Idiot." Harry muttered. Neville stared blankly as Harry handed over a debit card. Harry punched some numbers into a weird flat machine, waited a few moments and then took the bag of perfume and ushered Neville out.

"Are…are we stealing?" Neville whispered, glancing back at the store. Harry chuckled.

"No, it's a debit card. It's connected to my muggle bank account. Instead of carrying money with me, the bank will transfer the money to the store for me."

"So they-like-owl them the gold?" Neville flapped his hands in case 'owl' wasn't clear.

"There is no owling or gold." Harry said, muffling a laugh as Neville's hand-wings seemed to deflate. "It's just numbers on a machine to represent what I have."

"_Weird!"_ Neville said, scratching his chin. Harry nodded, shrugged and brought them back out onto the street.

"Well, the only other thing is the cakes and the wine." Harry swallowed thickly. He did not want to go into the alcohol place. He knew it would smell too strongly. He didn't think he was addicted to alcohol, he had only just started to drink, but it had become something he considered dangerous. "Shall we get lunch?"

"Sounds wonderful." Neville said, pretending not to have noticed the nervous waver in Harry's voice when he said _wine_.

They followed their noses, as Londoners often do, to a place that smelled delicious in the dirty streets. The hot smell of warm bread wafted mundanely into the street and curled around ankles, pulling passerbyers sideways into the open doors. They ordered tea and crumpets and the daily soup.

Neville thought he would never tire of watching Harry drink tea.

"We see your cousin tonight." He said, but it was more of a question than anything.

"Yes." Harry said and took a spoonful of the soup into his mouth. It was very hot but very good. He wondered if he should try making soup sometime. Or maybe just buy some alphagetties. Teddy would like that, he thought absently.

"What was it like growing up with them?"

"Awful." Harry said honestly before he could stop himself. "Well-not all muggles are awful. There's lots of great muggles. I think." Harry tried to remember anyone particular but no one jumped to mind except James, the only muggle friend he had ever made. "The point is the worlds are not that different."

Neville looked at him incredulously over a bun he was gnawing on. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Excluding the magic and technology."

"That's like saying 'Bellatrix was a great person, excluding all the crazy awful things she did." Neville said pointedly.

"Don't be so dramatic." Harry said, playfully hitting his arm. "I just meant we had awful people too. People like Voldemort or Bellatrix. We had bullies like Malfoy but there were good people as well. There were Dumbledores and Kingsleys. Fudges to fudge up our politics and Scrimagours to try and fix it. It's a complicated world, just like the Wizarding one. I think the benefit people like Hermione and I get is that we both know that magic doesn't fix everything and neither does technology." Harry took a bite out of the warm, moist bun. Neville brushed his foot along Harry's leg.

"When did you get so smart?" he said.

"I've always been this smart." Harry replied pointedly and kept his face rather serious. He swung his other foot up to cover Neville's. They played that way for awhile, each trying to get their foot on top of the others.

"But specifically," Neville said a bit later when they were each eating a warm pastry for dessert. "the Dursleys were awful?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I slept in a cupboard."

Neville dropped his pastry. "_What?_"

"A cupboard. Under the stairs, you know?" Harry said, feeling a little strange. He stared at Neville who seemed shocked and upset. It occurred slowly to Harry that this was how people were supposed to react when they heard this.

"That's _terrible!_" Neville exclaimed loudly. Several patrons looked over at them uncertainly. Harry flapped his hand to shush him. He stared at Neville's wide eyes and something knocked at him on the inside, as though it was trying to push open closed doors from the inside out. He wanted to _tell_ Neville every damn thing they had ever made him suffer.

"It locked on the outside, right? And if I messed up or said something wrong or if magic accidently happened they locked me in it-" he made a whistling sound like a lock sliding shut and made the motion with his hands. "_No food for a week_!" he impersonated Uncle Vernon. "But I snuck out at night to eat obviously, can't go hungry. When I got my letter they let me move upstairs and started just blatantly ignoring me from that point on and they put this cat flap in to pass me food and put bars over the window. And trust me, being ignored is better than getting beat up by Uncle Vernon. I got my hands bleached once by Aunt Petunia as well; she was a real piece of work if you got her upset. Burned them raw!" Harry looked at his hands. "They healed fast though; looking back I guess that was magic."

"Harry." Neville looked positively ill. He reached over and grabbed both of Harry's hands and squeezed them tightly. "Harry." Harry was startled to see tears in Neville's eyes. Everyone had always been sympathetic, but never particularly _tearful_ over it. Sometimes those who painted him a hero were shocked and angry…but Neville…For the first time Harry thought that maybe he shouldn't have been treated that way. He had never wanted to be treated that way, but now he absently thought _I deserved better_, and it was like some great weight had finally been removed, a lock undone and the insides turned free. Harry stared at Neville and blinked his own wetness away quickly. He waited until the waiter came by before he pulled his hands away. He looked at the floor as he asked for the bill.

"Together or separate?" the waiter asked.

"Together." Harry said thickly. "Shit." Harry muttered when the waiter left. He rubbed his eyes. "This feels more like a real relationship everyday."

"It _is_ a real relationship." Neville said. He did not say anything about what Harry had told him. He didn't know what to say. It was in the past and Neville was sure the last thing Harry wanted was for him to pity Harry. But it ached him deeply that this had happened to someone as-as _special_ as Harry. No one deserved that but it seemed an especially deep cruelty that it had been inflicted on something as good as Harry.

Harry was better in the liquor store than he thought he'd be. Though Harry didn't know it, he had overestimated his own addiction. It wasn't nearly an addiction to alcohol. It was just an addiction to the relief it brought him in times of sorrow. He would be subjected to its cold temptation again but not in a liquor store. The wine was, in fact, for Dudley. As was the cake. It never hurt, he thought, to bring cake. It made him feel ready.

Yet, standing outside Dudley's apartment with Teddy clutching his hand, he felt much more unready.

"Alright there, Harry?" Neville said, brushing a bit of snow off Harry's shoulder. Harry gave him a look that clearly said _No._

"Mhm." Harry said conversely, adjusting his grip on the wine bottle. Teddy lifted his hands up to reach for Harry.

"Up.' He said importantly on his tippy toes. Neville took the wine bottle, smiling encouragingly as Harry scooped him up. All three of them stared at the unremarkable apartment complex.

"Now, listen Teddy, we can't talk about magic, alright?" Harry stated tentatively forewarning Teddy. "And, just, Dudley is your uncle but he may not want us around, do you understand Teddy?"

Teddy nodded. Than shook his head. He pat Harry's head firmly.

"Don't be scared, Daddy." He said, sucking his own lips. "We- we have Christmas presents." He pointed at the cake and wine Neville was balancing.

"Yes, we do." Harry smiled at him. It was odd how aware of Harry's emotions Teddy was. Harry climbed the stairs, following behind Neville and shifting Teddy's weight to his hip.

"Maybe I should have come alone first." Harry said uncertainly.

"Too late now." Neville shrugged. Then, at a frustrated sound Harry made, "It's going to be fine Harry, just relax." He nudged Harry a bit in a comforting way.

And there it was. 64. Dudley Dursley.

What would he be like? Harry wondered. Vernon? An arrogant, cruel drunk? Petunia? Stuck up, petty, jealous and hypocritical? Or had he miraculously turned out somewhat human?

Teddy reached out, impatient with Harry's pause, and pressed the doorbell. Harry was not prepared when the door swung open. He was especially unprepared for a rather pretty girl with a small delicate build and long willowy hair staring up at him curiously.

"Can I help you?" she said in a friendly enough voice. She was wearing a white jumper and jeans over freckled skin. Her hair was a dark red and her eyes a light, Irish green.

"Oh, um, sorry!" Harry said, craning to look at the numbers in plastic under the doorbell. 64. "I'm looking for Dudley Dursley, he was supposed to be living here…" Harry shuffled as Teddy nervously clutched his shoulder. Neville was at a complete loss and hung awkwardly behind them. The pretty girl raised her eyebrows.

"You've the right one." Her accent was Welsh, almost. It was faded somewhat. "He's just stepped into the shower. Can I do something for you?"

"Oh, we should have, um, called or something." Harry swallowed. He didn't own a phone. "Thought I'd surprise him. I'm his cousin, Harry." He stuck his hand out, comforted an ounce that he didn't have to face Dudley right away. The girl slowly reached for his hand but froze midway and then both hands shot to her mouth.

"No way! You're Harry? His cousin? The one who saved his life?" she squealed in delight and yanked him in the doorway by his offered hand. "We didn't even know if you were alive! Come, come in! Step lively, it's a bit nippy out, musn't led the cold in." she sounded bright, cheerful and intelligent. She shut the door behind Neville. Harry slowly put Teddy down. "Oh, he'll just be tickled _pink_ when he sees you!"

Harry blanched at the thought of Dudley being _tickled_ into any colour, much less pink.

"I don't mean to be rude but-er- who are you?" Harry said awkwardly as Teddy clutched his thigh. Harry rested a hand on Teddy's hat covered head.

"Sorry! How rude of me! I'm Abby! Dudley's fiancée!" She shook Harry's free hand, her red curls bouncing jovially.

"Fiancée…" Harry trailed, startled. "But you're so-" he caught himself before he said _good. _"Pretty!" She laughed a thank you.

"Aunty Abby!" Teddy exclaimed, freeing himself from Harry and clapping his hands merrily. "I've two now!" he giggled brightly then held his mitten covered hands up for Harry to take them off for him. Abby gave him a pleasant but bewildered look.

"This is my son, Teddy." Harry said as he ruffled Ted's hat and hair with one firm rub.

"And I'm Neville." Neville added, saving Harry the uncertainty of introducing him. He held the gifts aloft. "We brought cake and wine."

"Oh, yes, cake." Harry said with an air of befuddlement. "Happy Christmas!"

"Thank you!" she blossomed, taking the cake with one curious look at Neville. Harry helped Teddy separate himself from his extensive winter gear and hung their coats as Abby ushered them into a spacious sitting room. She immediately brought in tea and biscuits and a glass of milk for Teddy who set about dipping his biscuits into it messily.

"Careful!" Harry scolded lightly.

"Well, I just can't believe it! Harry Potter, the cousin! Alive! Dudley will be thrilled! Oh, but where have you _been?_ Don't tell me yet! Best wait for Dudley!" She rambled.

"Um." Harry responded, feeling overwhelmed. He wasn't sure at all what to say. He hadn't been prepared for questions. He had assumed that Dudley would be living alone and that Dudley wouldn't be interested in hearing the nitty gritty's of Harry's last few years. He had been expecting an awkward social call followed by some hasty exchanges about his Uncle and Aunt and a farewell with an open invitation for another visit next Christmas and that was it. He glanced at Neville who seemed to find Abby very amusing. Harry gave him a desperate look.

"Well, Abby, how did you meet Dudley?" Neville provided, smiling.

"Oh, it's a very regular story, I'd been drinking coffee at this little café by my university and everyday this big, handsome man would be there too." Harry thought that the handsome man could _certainly_ not be any version of the Dudley Dursley he knew. "And as the days passed, he sat closer and closer to my table till finally I thought _this is taking forever! _So I just got up and sat with him! He said my eyes drew him in, reminded him of something nostalgic. I think maybe it was you," she winked at Harry. "But you'll never get him to admit it." Suddenly it clicked, the small frame, pretty face, brilliant red hair and green eyes were so familiar.

"Actually," Harry said, sipping his tea. "You look quiet a pinch like my mum. I reckon it's her he spotted in you. I had a picture of her in my room when I was younger." Abby flushed, clearly pleased.

"Really?" Her small hands fluttered by her pink face as Harry nodded. Harry was, to be honest, a tad surprised. Although Dudley had proven he was not a complete arse, he had been a burley, brutish and stupid young man, last Harry had seen. He tried not to imagine this soap bubble of a girl meeting his Uncle and Aunt. She would be crushed, or perhaps eaten. A small dog, a fluffy ball really, ran into the room. Teddy quickly vacated his seat.

"Puppy!" he shouted.

"Careful!" Harry yelled as Teddy ran after the dog. "Play nicely, please!" He began to get up but Abby waved him back into his seat.

"Oh, it's fine. She's a very gentle creature, hasn't any bite to her."

"It's not Teddy I'm worried about. The poor dog, honestly." Harry said and Neville grinned.

"He's a lovely boy, Teddy, right?" She said, not waiting for an answer. "I was hardly expecting you to have a son. You're so young!"

"Well, it's a bit…complicated." He glanced at Neville who in turn looked at Teddy.

Abby seemed to sense this was a tender topic. "What about you two? What do you do? How do you know each other?"

"Oh, well-"

"That's-" they both started and looked at each other. Neville gestured for Harry to go ahead.

"I run a bed and breakfast in north London. Neville and I were school mates. He's living in one of my rooms at the mo." Harry said half-heartedly.

"And I'm a teacher." Neville added.

"Oh, me too!" She said happily. "I teach maths! Middle levels."

"Oh, um-" Neville said, wondering if there was a Muggle equivalent to Herbology.

"Botany, right?" Harry rushed to interrupt. Neville nodded thankfully. Harry glanced about the room and noticed the stationary photos of Abby and the dog. The furniture was clean and nice but not fancy or meant to impress visitors. Nor was it obsessively clean and ordered. It looked very average, but not in the obsessively normal way the Dursley house had been. Harry suddenly noticed the absence of his son and the dog. He stood immediately.

"Teddy!" He started to call out when-

"Hey, Abs, what's with the kid? He-" and in came, presumably, Dudley Dursley. Dudley was tall, much taller than Harry. He was strong and muscular looking, with a thinner face, defined with a rugged almost-handsome look. He wasn't exactly handsome but he no longer resembled a pig/pit-bull crossbreed. There was a vague resemblance to Vernon, but he reminded Harry more of pictures he'd seen of their shared grandfather. Dudley had frozen mid sentence, almost comically, and was staring dumb founded at Harry.

"Hey, Bid D." Harry said. He waggled his fingers at him. A terrified looking Teddy shot out from behind him and rushed to scramble onto Neville's lap.

"Harry?" Dudley said at a loss for any real emotion besides shock. Harry nodded. A tense moment passed.

"Harry!" Dudley boomed and he crossed the room quickly and grabbed Harry in a bone crushing hug. It was like being smothered by a less hairy Hagrid. Harry pat Dudley's back uncertainly, aiming more for being able to breathe than affection. The end-of-hug-pat had no affect on Dudley who just squeezed him tighter.

"Hey, um, Dudley." Harry said applying one word per pat and finally extracted himself from the embrace.

"Harry!" Dudley repeated for a third time. "I'm just so glad to see you! Where have you been, mate?"

_Mate?_ Harry puzzled absently, as he rubbed his neck.

"About. Busy, I guess. Nice to see you too, then, er-mate." Harry's hand twitched out in Neville's direction, as though he wanted to hold Neville's hand but he pulled it back and put it in his pocket instead. Neville watched the hand as he held a frightened Teddy in his lap.

"Oh," Harry said after a prolonged pause. "This is my son, Teddy. Ted, come here." Harry beckoned. Dudley stared wide eyed at Teddy.

"A nephew?" Dudley said. Harry and Dudley weren't brothers, so this wasn't true. But it warmed Harry to hear him say the words. Teddy didn't get off Neville's lap.

"And my good friend Neville Longbottom. Come here, guys."

Neville stood as Teddy crawled off his lap and the two made their way over to Harry. Neville tousled Teddy's hair with his fingers before shaking Dudley's hand. Dudley had a firm grip, and the two shook almost ferociously. Neville eyed Dudley as Dudley seemed to size up Neville suspiciously.

But it lasted only a moment. Dudley seemed completely wrapped up in Teddy.

"Alright there, little man?" He asked squatting all the way down, his blonde hair wet and plastered to his forehead. Teddy ducked close to Harry, gripping around Harry's leg he nodded into Harry's thigh.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Uncle Dudley." He said thickly, his slight lisp sticking each word together like peanut butter.

"Yeah! How old are you?" Harry nudged Teddy a little and Teddy pealed about a centimetre away, chubby fist clinging to the fabric of Harry's jeans. He held up three slightly wet fingers.

"Thwee." He said firmly.

"Wow!" Dudley said with his eye brows raised up. He cast Harry a look to say he really was kind of shocked. Harry was 20, after all. Harry shrugged absently in a way that said _I'll explain later_.

Teddy pointed at the dog, smiling a little.

"Wazits name?"

"This is Frankie, she's my special dog. Do you like her?" Teddy nodded ferociously. "You can play with her, but be careful! She's old!"

"Old." Teddy repeated, like this was an order to follow. "I be careful." And Teddy ran back to the dog, his bum wiggling behind him excitedly. The dog and boy sat playing under the tree. The dog chewed on a ball which Teddy occasionally managed to throw, but mostly Teddy stuffed his round hands into the dog's fur to feel its softness. Frankie wagged her tail pleasantly.

"He's damn cute." Dudley said, sitting on the edge of his chair and watching them.

"Yeah."

"Old though." Dudley pressed, glancing at Harry sideways. Harry scratched his neck and leaned back into the seat. Neville was glad when Harry shook his head uncertainly as Abby offered him a glass of wine. Harry swallowed tightly. He was surprised by how hard it was to say no.

_Its only a drink. _A small voice said. _It'll ease you up. This is so very awkward. Just one's no harm_

_._

But he glanced first at Neville's tight, worried eyes, then at the small boy putting his delicate features into the dog's chest to test the fur to his cheeks. Saying no suddenly became easier.

"I'm his Godfather. His parents died." Harry said quietly, the words still made Teddy howl and cover his ears. He hated when people tried to tell him that Harry wasn't his real father. Harry had stopped trying to get him not to say Daddy. Dudley nodded thickly.

"Damn shame. In-in your people's…" he trailed off. Harry nodded while Abby looked between the two, confused. "Well, I don't think I want to know much about it." Dudley said slowly. "I'm sorry." He looked confused, and it made his features look boarish in the soft light. It was difficult; it went against the very nature of Dudley to want to know about the unnormal place. But he wanted to know Harry. But it was awkward. And confusing. And he had been the one to do terrible things. And Dudley didn't know what to do. But Harry, who had always been rather good at balancing his two strange lives, did.

"I hear you're an electrician?" Harry said smiling pleasantly. And that's how it went, briskly passing on. It was, by all means, an awkward night, and each cousin more anxious than the other to get it out correctly and properly. Their two partners got on well, both the pleasant calming in the evening and when a quietness arose they pressed each other with questions about their teaching careers and sparked the evening alight again. Two hours later, all parties were exhausted and Harry stood up.

"I think it's time I got Teddy home and to bed. Late night tomorrow." Harry said, thankful for an excuse to leave. The other three adults stood as well. Teddy who had been sitting in Harry's lap, starting to doze tried to argue, but his thoughts were too muffled. Harry adjusted him gently, turning his against his body so Teddy could sleep.

"Oh, poor thing." Abby said softly, her small pale hands fluttering slightly. Neville put on Teddy's hat and mittens and slowly pushed his little red snow boots on Ted's feet. Abby kissed his round, sleepy cheek and helped them put his arms through his coat. Neville took Harry's coat for him. He put Harry's hat on Harry's head. It was an intimate gesture than neither thought much about. He twined Harry's scarf around Harry's neck, the red and orange laying flat under his coat.

"Thank you so much for coming!" Abby whispered. "Come any time at all!"

Neville thanked her and shook her hand and Dudley's. Abby kissed both their cheeks. Careful not to jostle Teddy, Dudley clapped Harry on his shoulder and leaned in a bit.

"I'm glad you came, cousin. I mean it." He said with a voice much deeper than Harry remembered.

"Yeah. " Harry smiled genuinely. "Me too." And he was surprised, despite the awkward night, how much he meant it.

When the door was closed behind them Dudley turned to his fiancé.

"Hey, do you reckon they were…?"

"Oh, Dudley, you shouldn't make assumptions! But yes, definitely gay! Properly domestic, even have a kid!"

"Oh, see, I thought so." Dudley replied, only a little curious and confused. Abby was very good for Dudley after all, very good indeed.


End file.
